Take The Peanut From My Hand
by StrangeVisitor
Summary: xover with NCIS: Methos gives Richie some advice. Richie decides to go to College in DC where he meets the NCIS crew. These stories chronicle Richie's adventures with Abby, Ducky and the others. Idontlikegravy will also also contribute chapters
1. Grasshopper

**Series Title:** Take the Peanut from My Hand …

**Written for:** idontlikegravy for the hlhshortcuts on Live Journal

**Beta:** Huge gratitude to my beta amandr

**Fandoms:**Highlander

**Characters:** Richie Ryan, Methos, a little Joe Dawson, and mentions of Duncan MacLeod

**Spoilers:** Present day. "Archangel" never happened.

**Chapter Summary:**Methos offers advice to Richie based on his 5,000 years of Immortality.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Grasshopper**

Richie sat next to Methos, finishing his beer. He watched as Methos exchanged silent signals with a pretty blonde at the opposite end of the bar. Richie wasn't much in the mood for flirting these days but his companion seemed to be on a roll.

In response to Richie's signal, Joe came by with a fresh beer and moved on to serve others without saying a word.

Truth was, Richie was bored. Even though he'd turned 33 last month, he still looked 19. Everything was the same: work, eat, sleep and an occasional drink at Joe's. No different than if he was mortal, except there would be no retirement at 65. If he were lucky, he'd never retire.

Richie snorted. "Lucky, right," he mumbled as he picked at the label of his beer.

"You say something?" Methos asked, turning to give Richie his attention.

He looked over at Methos and realized he'd spoken aloud. "I was just wondering how you do it."

"I'm incredibly charming and the woman just flock to me." Methos quipped as he sent another smile toward the blonde at the bar.

"I'm sure you believe that."

"Well the truth is the truth," Methos stated simply and gestured for the peanuts sitting in front of Richie.

Richie slid the snack bowl toward Methos. "No old man, I mean how do you not die of boredom?"

"The operative word there being 'die'. Not something I intend to do." He saluted Richie with his drink and took a swig.

Richie knew that Methos was just being his witty, evasive self. But the future just looked like one big dull march toward nothing and he needed to understand what drove Methos to keep going after 5,000 years. "But why not die? Haven't you lived long enough?"

Methos responded with mock seriousness, "Excuse me? You're not actually challenging me are you?"

"What?! No…Methos... I'm just bored… and…," Richie sputtered into silence.

Methos chuckled and clapped him on the back. "You're too young to be having a mid-life crisis, my friend. By the time I was your age-"

"I know, you'd conquered half the known world," Richie finished before returning to the important task of peeling the label from his beer. "Not exactly an option these days."

Methos smiled, "You work with what you're given. And I'm not suggesting you over throw a small government. Though," he paused thoughtfully," if you do, can you start with France because I owe them about seventy thousand euros."

Richie stared at Methos in the mirror over the bar. In the reflection, Methos' face seemed older; less the callow youth he tried to portray to everyone. "Back taxes?"

Methos dug through the peanut bowl. "Apparently, they consider their library books government property."

Richie pulled the bowl from him and fished a pretzel from the bottom. "You could just return them."

"Oh no. First I'd have to remember where they were." Methos shrugged. "And then I'd have to actually care." He reached for the peanuts again. "Easier if you just conquer the country and then give me amnesty."

"World domination's not really my style," Richie quipped.

"Not really mine anymore either," Methos agreed. "So we're agreed, conquering the world as way to alleviate boredom is not an option." Methos paused to sip his drink.

"That's it, that's the best you can do, old man?"

Methos gave him a grumpy stare, "So impatient. That's your problem. I was about to suggest that you stop following Mac around like a trained puppy."

Richie glared at him, "I am not Mac's errand boy."

At that moment, Joe walked by and handed Richie a piece of paper. "I almost forgot, Mac asked me to give this to you when you stopped in."

"Thanks, Joe." Richie unfolded the note and groaned. It was a list of supplies Mac needed him to pick up for the dojo. He cast an accusatory glance at Methos, "You planned this, right?"

Methos grabbed the paper from Richie and burst out laughing as he read it, "Nope, you're not his errand boy at all."

"Is it that obvious?" Richie asked as he snagged the shopping list back from Methos and slipped it into his pocket.

Methos calmed his chuckling. "Look, I love Mac as much as anybody but he tends toward the boring, and you spend too much time around him. He's settled in to a comfortable Immortal middle-age routine. Which is fine if you're four hundred years old; but you're still in your first century."

"I don't spend too much time with him and how can you say Mac's boring?" Richie insisted, but the crumpled paper in his pocket told a different story.

Methos sat there smirking at him. "Okay, maybe a little boring," Richie admitted, returning Methos' smirk.

"You go where he goes, you do what he does. Hell, you work with the man everyday. It's time to make your own way in this world, little grasshopper." Methos held out the flat of his palm. "Snatch the peanut from my hand."

Richie stopped himself from instinctively reaching for the peanut. "Very funny." He turned back to his untouched beer. "You're a wealth of fortune cookie wisdom."

"Don't knock fortune cookies. They're delicious." He said as he plopped the peanut into his mouth and signaled to Joe for another scotch.

"Well that's helpful. I'll just file that away for when I go to China." Richie was getting frustrated. This conversation was not providing the insight he'd hoped for.

Joe walked up with a fresh drink for Methos and a concerned expression for Richie as he eyed the tatters of the beer label strewn across the bar. "You okay, kid?"

Richie was about to remind Joe that he wasn't a kid when Methos spoke-up, "I got this, Joe."

Joe waited a beat and then nodded. He walked away, giving them their privacy.

Richie picked up the thread of their conversation. "I've been on my own before you know," he reminded Methos.

"Ah yes. The year of the famous killing spree."

"Hey, Mac tried to kill me first, and I'm not proud of the things that happened that year." He took a swig of the warm beer and grimaced. He didn't like remembering that time when he'd felt so alone and out of control.

Methos dismissed Richie's guilt with a wave of his hand, "I doubt that. You'd be dead if you hadn't played The Game. But you were running without a plan and you came back too soon."

"I had to make things right with Mac," Richie insisted softly. He could feel Methos staring at him as he played with the torn pieces of the label; arranging them and rearranging them into a square. That year had been fueled by fear and anger. Ultimately, it had been a necessary rite of passage into the realities of the Game. But the one thing it had never been was boring.

Methos swept the tiny papers out of his reach. "You are making excuses. Do you want my advice or not?" He demanded, forcing Richie to meet his gaze.

Shrugging he admitted, "You make some good points -"

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Richie scowled at him. "Yes, of course. Methos knows best."

"See you can learn. So here's my advice. Go to college or go climb a mountain or go to China, but just go and do. Come back in a few decades. I guarantee I'll still be around." He paused. "But maybe not in France."

"I'm sure you will be," he laughed. It pained him to admit it, but Methos was right. There were a lot of options in this world for an Immortal, but not if he stayed here living the same day over and over. "You know I've always wanted to go to college. It could be a lot of fun."

Methos nodded, "A good place to start. I went to college a few times. It can be a very stimulating experience." Methos stopped and eyed Richie suspiciously, "Of course you'd be going for the academics and not the co-eds, right?"

"No, I'd be going for the co-eds."

Methos patted his shoulder sagely. "You're learning already, little grasshopper."


	2. Empty Nest

**Title**: Empty Nest  
**Rated**: G  
**Fandom**:Highlander/NCIS  
**Characters**: _HL:_ Joe, Duncan , Richie, Methos. _NCIS_: Ducky  
**Word Count**: 1,578  
**Summary**: Richie is going to college and Joe needs to find him a Watcher.

**AN:** This is turning into a HL/NCIS crossover

* * *

**Empty Nest**

Joe was happy that Richie had decided to go to college but it presented him with a bit of a dilemma. As long as Richie had been hanging with Mac these past few years, Joe had appointed himself the double duty of watching both of them. But now Richie was heading across the country for college in DC and he didn't really have anyone he could send to Watch the young Immortal.

The door to the bar was flung open and in walked the object of Joe's concern, already in a heated conversation with MacLeod.

"Richie, you can't just go to DC and have no place to live." Mac insisted as he took a seat at the bar.

Richie plopped down on the stool next to him, "Mac, I'm thirty-three. I am not going to live in a dorm with a bunch of freshman."

"Exactly," Mac agreed. "So why won't you let me buy you a condo near campus?"

Richie practically growled in frustration and looked at Joe. "I'm sure I've explained this to him before. How is it he still doesn't get it? "

Joe laughed and handed them each a beer. "I'm staying out of this." He'd heard a variation on this theme ever since Richie had received his acceptance letter. Mac was playing the role of overprotective father and Richie was the independently minded son. Joe knew better than to broach the subject of Richie's unassigned Watcher when he was in this mood.

"I know you want to do this on your own but I don't see why I can't help you pay for things. How about a car?"

"Enough Mac!" Richie slammed his mug down on the counter. "And what's wrong with my bike?"

"Well, I just thought that you can at least live in a car," Mac deadpanned

"Very funny. I have my own money. I can make my own way. I don't need you to take care of me." Richie reminded him a little more harshly than he'd intended. But he was so tired of this conversation and Mac's constant interference in his life. Methos was right about moving on and he couldn't get to Georgetown soon enough.

"You're right. I just…" Mac hesitated and took a swig of his beer. "I guess I'm just gonna miss having you around."

Richie looked over at his friend and let his anger go. "Getting sentimental on me Mac?"

Duncan smiled, clasped Richie's shoulder and addressed their bartender. "Joe, our little boy's all grown up."

"And about time too," came a voice from the doorway.

"Methos!" Richie waved the old man to the empty bar stool to his right. "Joe, another round on me."

Joe snickered. "This mean you're going to settle your tab before you leave town?"

Richie smiled at Duncan. "Hey dad, you want to take care of my bar bill?"

"What happened to 'I can pay my own way'?" Duncan quipped.

"I haven't left yet." Richie replied but still reached for his wallet to pay for the drinks. He laid the money on the counter with a flourish indicating to his companions that he was as responsible as he kept insisting.

"Papa bear still having trouble letting go?" Methos asked as he settled in with his beer.

Mac groaned. "Why does everyone making such a big deal out of me wanting to help?"

"Because most mortal parents have learned to let them leave the nest once they hit thirty." Methos advised with mock seriousness.

Richie picked up on the theme. "You will take care of him, Methos. I'm not sure he can get by without my help."

Joe added. "It has been a long time since he's had to fend for himself; I should know."

"Well, Joe you can take over running his errands and mopping the dojo," Methos snorted, "because I have better things to do with my time than baby-sit the man. Isn't that your job anyway as his Watcher?"

"Guys, alright, I get it. We're all grown-ups here." Mac raised his beer. "To college boy. All the best."

The others echoed the sentiment as they drank to Richie's future.

* * *

Listening to Mac joke about Richie living in his car had given Joe an epiphany. Leaving a fresh round of beers for them, he headed into his office to make a phone call. If this worked out Richie would not only have a Watcher but a place to live as well. It was a solution he hoped that Richie wouldn't see as charity.

"Hello," came the distinctly British voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hiya Ducky. It's Joe Dawson."

"Joseph. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"I have a favor to ask." Joe settled into his office chair. This might be a long call.

Dr. Donald Mallard was a semi-retired Watcher who lived in DC and worked as a forensic specialist at NCIS. He still participated occasionally in research projects for the Watchers but he hadn't actually been in the field in almost twenty years. Joe hoped their long standing friendship might convince the man to take on an active field assignment.

"If it is within my power to grant your request, I shall do my best." Ducky replied sincerely.

Joe could hear a lot of commotion in the back ground and what sounded like dogs barking.

"This isn't a bad time, is it?" He wanted Ducky's full attention and in a good mood for the discussion to come.

"No, Mother has just riled up the dogs with one of her games." Ducky's voice faded from the phone momentarily and Joe could hear him begging his mother to control her pets. The background noise quieted and Ducky returned to the phone. "She loves those things but sometimes they do make an awful racket. So, what is it that has you asking favors?

"I know it's been a long time since you've had a field assignment but I was hoping I might convince you to watch an Immortal friend of mine who'll be relocating to your area."

Silence greeted Joe's request and he was just about to tell him to forget the whole thing when Ducky spoke, "Immortal friend." There was no judgment in Ducky's voice. "I must admit I never had to adjust to the changes in policy you've instituted Joseph. We were called Watchers for a reason, you know."

Joe grimaced and he remembered the reason this might be a bad idea. Joe had been worried that Ducky might be a proponent of old school thinking. After all, he had reduced his activity with the Watchers back in the 80's.

"I know not everyone embraced the changes but secrecy was killing our organization." Joe chose his words carefully as he continued. "I'm offering you the opportunity to get to know an Immortal; to be a part of the 21st century organization. I know you were always up for a challenge."

Ducky sighed. "You're right of course. I just don't know if I want to go into the field again at my age and I certainly can't follow some young Immortal all over the world."

Joe smiled. It seemed he'd underestimated Ducky. He was willing, now Joe just had to show him that he was able.

"You wouldn't have to, Duck. That's the beauty of this assignment and the active collaboration between Watchers and Immortals. Richie...Richie Ryan, that's his name. He's only been Immortal for about 15 years. He's going to college in DC." Joe paused and figured he might as well lay all his cards on the table. "I thought since he needs a place to live and you have that big house, he could stay with you. And if he was living there, he could report to you. You wouldn't have to follow him around. Plus, he could help out with your mother."

Ducky snickered.

"Most ingenious, Joseph. You have masterminded the perfect solution to my every protest. I must admit it might be fun to be more active again. I remember my last field assignment, Graham Leary. Jovial Irish fellow. There was this one time he spent an entire weekend…"

Joe smiled as he listened to Ducky recount his last field assignment. Once Ducky started telling stories Joe knew it was his way of accepting the assignment. He'd heard the story many times but then if you were friends with Ducky you got used to hearing his stories over and over again. That was something he'd have to warn Richie about.

Ducky finished relating Graham's last duel and fell silent. Realization dawned on Joe as he heard the sadness in Ducky's final words.

"You were friends. You talked." He could hear Ducky exhale on the other end.

"Yes. That's why I retired. I couldn't take losing another friend that way. But mortal or Immortal we lose people, don't we Joe, and it's their friendship that matters." Joe could hear the sadness in Ducky's voice but couldn't know it was for a mortal friend, Kate, recently lost.

"Very true. So does that mean you'll do it?" Joe prompted.

"Yes Joseph you have won me over. And now you must tell me more about this young Immortal."

Joe leaned back in his chair and began to share the short but colorful history of Richie Ryan.


	3. Abby And The Immortal

This chapter was originally published as part of my NCIS collection but now it fits in this universe so i am reposting it..

**Title:** Abby and The Immortal  
**Rated:** G  
**Fandom:** NCIS and Highlander  
**Characters:** Abby Sciuto & Ritchie Ryan  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Word count:** 1,281  
**Disclaimer:** All things belong to their respective creators  
**Summary:** Walking home Abby stumbles upon an improbable scene and meets an unusual man.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Abby and The Immortal**

_Gibbs wouldn't like it if he knew I was walking home alone at 2AM,_ Abby thought as she navigated the city streets towards her apartment. She really didn't have far to travel and after a night of drinking and clubbing, walking was always a better choice than driving.

As she rounded the corner, she heard a strange metallic clanging. Never able to suppress her curious nature, Abby followed the sound. Staring into the gloom of the dimly lit alley, she questioned what she was seeing.

Two men were fighting with swords. _I must have had more to drink than I thought,_ Abby mused as she watched the scene. Keeping to the shadows, she moved closer trying to convince herself that she wasn't hallucinating.

A younger, fair-haired man was locked in a struggle with a stocky, brunette man. Fascinated by the skill of the opponents, Abby watched the battle being waged a few feet from where she stood concealed behind a large garbage bin.

"We can still walk away from this," the fair-hared man said.

"Why would I walk away, Ryan, when your head will soon be mine?"

"I just hate to kill you if I don't have to," Ryan smirked.

Abby started at the serious intent behind their light hearted banter. Clearly, they meant to kill each other. Abby reached into her pocket for her cell phone. Her movements were slow so as not to garner their attention.

She was about to dial when the man she'd identified as Ryan slipped. Something in the alley had sent him sprawling. The phone call was forgotten as she watched the bigger man stab him through the abdomen as he fell.

It was Ryan's cry of pain that startled her into action.

"Hey!" She shouted and then covered her mouth as she realized that her shout had drawn the attention of a crazy, sword-wielding killer.

The man smiled over Ryan's head at her and raised his sword as if to decapitate the fallen man.

Her own safety forgotten she summoned her best Gibbs imitation and yelled, "Federal Agent, drop you weapon." She pulled a small wallet from her pocket and flashed it at the man hoping that in the gloom of the alley he couldn't tell the difference between her NCIS employee ID and an Agent's badge. She positioned her hand over her hip as if ready to draw a gun.

Ryan took advantage of the distraction to get to his feet and away from his would be killer. The swordsman looked from Abby to his opponent, "This isn't over Ryan." He sneered as he fled out the other end of the alley.

Abby fell back against the wall of the alley shaking. "Stupid, so stupid. I could have been killed." She looked at Ryan who moved toward her clasping his side and still holding his sword.

Abby jumped away from him and began backing out of the Alley, "Stay back, I have a gun," she bluffed.

The man laughed, "I'm not the one you need to be afraid of, I promise." He stopped and he laid down his sword. "Thank you for saving my life Agent…."

"Abby" She supplied warily without denying her guise as a Federal Agent.

"Abby. I'm Richie Ryan." He made to hold out his hand for a simple greeting but the wound in his side made him grimace and he stumbled; falling all the way to the ground. Instead of standing again, he settled with his back against the wall.

"Oh, you're still hurt. I forgot." Abby moved over to crouch at his side and flipped open her phone, "Don't worry I'll have an ambulance here in no time."

Richie closed his hand over hers, shutting the phone.

"I'm fine. It's just a flesh wound," he snickered. "You don't have to hang around. Really, I'll be fine. Thank you again, Abby."

"No, I saw him stab you. You have to get to a hospital. You're bleeding internally for sure. I can help." She reached over and lifted his shirt quicker than he could stop her. "I know first aid and maybe I …," Abby looked down at his abdomen to see blue sparks climbing all over his wound, "I…," She stared speechless as the wound closed up and disappeared completely.

Richie tugged his shirt back down. "Told you it wasn't serious." He tried to laugh off her confusion.

Finally, Abby found her voice. "It's healed itself," She said with awe. "That's not possible."

"Yeah, it is. It wasn't as serious as you thought." Richie insisted but Abby wasn't buying it.

"I am a scientist and a scientist collects evidence," she stated. She reached over, against his protestations, to lift his shirt again. He leaned his head back and resigned himself to being poked by her.

"This is amazing," she gushed as she ran her hand across his stomach.

"Women have told me that in the past," he smiled, flirting with her.

She punched him playfully on the arm, "You know what I mean. The wound is completely gone! Please tell me how that could happen?" But she continued before Richie could send anther quip her way. "Oh oh oh! I got it. You're a vampire," she began excitedly, "or maybe you're a mutant like Wolverine. Either one would be so cool. Are you hundreds of years old? How did you …"

Richie reached up and placed two fingers over Abby's mouth. It seemed to be the only way to get a word into the conversation. "I am not a Vampire. I am not a mutant and I am only 33 years old." Richie stated simply. Abby's face fell as he delivered this news but her mind continued searching for other explanations.

"But you don't look nearly that old," Abby observed.

Richie groused, "Yeah, that really pisses me off sometimes let me tell you."

Abby laughed at his hurt expression, "Come on Richie you can trust me. Spill. I can keep a secret. I won't let the government capture you and use you for weird experiments. I promise." She poked at him and pouted a little and he finally caved.

"Okay, Okay, the truth is I'm Immortal. I can't die permanently." Richie sighed. "Happy now?"

"Yes! That is so cool." Abby squealed with delight. "That's almost as good as being a Vampire."

Richie snickered at her enthusiasm. Getting to his feet, he assisted Abby to hers. Then he picked up his sword and sheathed it in his jacket before offering his arm to Abby. "Might I escort you home, Miss?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes you may," Abby said happily, taking Richie's arm. Then she changed her mind. "Wait a minute," Abby insisted. She stared at him trying to put the rest of what she'd seen in perspective "Why are you carrying a sword around? And why was he trying to kill you and who was he…"

"Abby," he stated firmly interrupting the stream of questions. "How about some breakfast first?"

She pointed a finger at him with mock sternness, "Ok, but only because we're going to need fuel to get through all the questions I have and you're not getting away until I get the whole story."

Richie snickered, "I figured as much." Abby grabbed his hand and lead him toward the nearest all night diner. It was going to be a long conversation


	4. Educating Abby by idontlikegravy

**Idontlikegravy** and I will be continuing this NCIS/HL crossover. I will be posting all of this universe here to keep it together. She also has an account on here and a Live Journal too. Check out her stuff if you get the chance.

**Summary:** Abby insists Richie tell her the truth about what she'd seen

* * *

**Chapter 4: Educating Abby by Idontlikegravy **

They found a diner nearby and went inside. It was mostly deserted at such an ungodly hour, and they picked a booth in a corner where they wouldn't be overheard. Richie made much of the business of ordering, taking time to peruse the menu, before settling on a burger with fries.

"I always get hungry after…after 2am." Richie said, stopping himself before he said too much. Abby ordered a soda to be polite, and then looked at Richie pointedly. "So what kind of agent are you?" he asked. Abby looked embarrassed.

"I'm not exactly an agent as such... I'm a forensic expert," she confessed.

"Seriously? You don't exactly look the type."

"Yeah? Well, I happen to be one of the most respected forensic scientists in the country. I'm published and everything," she replied defensively.

"Hey, look I'm sorry, it's just you know, scientist, you get a certain image. I didn't mean anything by it, it's just you're more Goth than geek and more of a babe than I'd expect a scientist to be." Richie said, flashing his most winning smile. Even after years of working with DiNozzo, Abby wasn't immune to Richie's charm, and she melted.

The waitress brought their orders, and Richie tucked in greedily.

"So hungry," he said through a mouthful of food, thoroughly breaking any spell he may have put over Abby.

"Stop stalling," Abby said in her most Gibbs-like tone, "You promised me answers, so spill."

Richie stopped eating and looked at her guiltily. Abby folded her arms and glowered at him. After a minute, Richie broke.

"Okay, so I kinda hoped that if I distracted you, you'd forget about that other stuff."

"Are you kidding me? This is huge. I always knew the paranormal existed, and you're living proof. A real live Immortal!" Abby said animatedly.

"Abby! Volume," he hissed.

"Sorry," she whispered and looked around sheepishly

"Nobody can know about me, or this conversation," Richie said, growing serious, "There are people out there, government agencies in particular, who would love to get their hands on someone like me. I need your word that you won't repeat what I share with you."

"How do you know I'll keep my word?" Abbey asked, half teasing.

"You seem like a good person, I'll let your conscience decide for you. Besides, you have no proof, who'd believe you? Now, do I have your promise?"

Abs raised her left hand, crossed her heart with the other and nodded solemnly

"I promise."

Amused by the extravagant gesture, Richie chuckled, then began his explanation.

"Like I said back in the ally, I'm Immortal. But I can be killed."

"Hold on a minute, you can die? But you said immortal; that kinda implies never dying." Abby paused for a moment, then added, "Oh! Is it like vampires? If they get staked they die, otherwise they live forever."

"Something like that, yeah. There's only one way and really I'd rather not share the specifics," Richie replied. When she frowned, he added quickly, "It's for your own safety as much as mine. You understand?"

Abby nodded reluctantly. Richie took the moment to debate just how much he should reveal to the young Goth. _The cute young Goth, _he added mentally.

"So, keep going," she prompted, emphasising her statement with her hands. Richie came to a decision, and continued,

"There's a legend among the people like me that eventually there will only be one left and he or she will have ultimate power."

"Only one left? How?"

"That's what the swords are for," Richie replied. Abby gasped and covered her mouth. "We have to fight each other. Some believe the legend and fight to claim the power, some are addicts who can't get enough of the rush that comes from killing another Immortal, but most try to lead normal lives They only fight when they have to, in self-defence or to stop a really evil Immortal."

"Which are you?" Abby asked nervously.

"Me? I'm the do-gooder type. Can't you tell?" Richie said, half joking.

"It never hurts to check. Besides, the men I find cute usually turn out to be complete scumbags."

"You think I'm cute?" Richie asked with a smile and chuckled good-naturedly. Abby blushed and sipped her soda. "Cool."

"So were you born this way or was it like a spell or something? I mean could I become immortal? How did you know you were immortal? In fact how did you know he was immortal?" The stream of questions cascaded from Abby as she tried to cover her embarrassing admission with chatter.

"Slow down Abby! One question at a time, okay?" Richie said with a laugh, "I was born this way, and no, you can't become an Immortal. Now, what was next?"

"How did you know that you were immortal?"

"I didn't, at first. I met my teacher, who told me what I was," Richie replied, careful not to give too much detail.

"What about the guy in the alley? How did you know he was like you?"

"There's this…feeling, like a bad headache, that we get whenever another Immortal is nearby."

"Feeling?"

"Yeah, it's hard to describe, it's not like any other feeling. It's a pressure, but a tingly, prickly sensation…" Richie trailed off, floundering. "Like I said, it's hard to describe," he finished with a shrug. Abby smiled.

"Do you know how many others there are?" she asked. Richie shook his head.

"I'm not sure anyone knows for certain. I've met dozens though," he replied.

They slipped into silence as Abby tried to think of more questions, and Richie started eating again.

"So, are you from around here?" Abby asked, knowing the question was dumb, but needing to break the silence.

"Nope, just got here. I'm starting at Georgetown next semester. Just my luck, first night in town and I get challenged," Richie grumbled good-naturedly.

"You just got here? Oh you should totally let me show you around. There's much in the way of cool stuff for a young person to do. Oh! I forgot, sorry. I guess you're probably too old for that sort of thing," Abby said. Richie laughed.

"I'm not an old fart! I love clubbing, but I honestly don't think I'll have the time. I'm gonna be working as well as having classes and homework…"

"Yeah, I get that. But you gotta party sometimes, you know? So have you got a job lined up?"

"Yeah, this guy I'm going to be staying with has set me up with something. I'm not sure exactly what, but he said it would involve computers."

"Is that what you're studying?" Abby asked, her interest showing in her eyes. Richie nodded. "Then I can help you out! Computers are completely my thing. Here, let me give you my number, and if you ever need any help with anything, call me," she added, grabbing a pen from her purse and writing it on a napkin.

"How about a date?" Richie asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"You move fast, you've only just arrived and we've only just met. Besides, I thought you wouldn't have any spare time?" Abby said, smirking._He's as bad as Tony, _she added mentally.

"Hey, for you I could make time."

"Yeesh. Does that cornball line ever work?"

"Heh, you'd be surprised," Richie said with a chuckle. Abby stood and passed the napkin to Richie.

"For help with homework. Okay?"

"Okay. It was nice meeting you Abby Sciuto. I hope we'll meet again."

"You too Richie Ryan. Bye!" Abby said and walked out of the diner.

"I think I'm gonna like DC," Richie said to himself with a smile, before devouring the rest of his meal.


	5. Meet The Mallards

**Title**: Meet the Mallards  
**Beta**: idontlikegravy  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan; NCIS: Ducky, Abby, Mrs. Mallard and a special appearance by the Corgies: Tyson, Countessa, Nelson and Elizabeth (yes, I named the last two)  
**Summary**: Richie finally meets the Mallards and moves in. He is still unaware that Ducky and Abby are co-workers.

**

* * *

**

**Meet The Mallards**

Richie waited until around lunch time on Sunday morning to pull into the Mallard's circular driveway. He looked at the house in front of him. It was a huge three story mansion with immaculate gardens. What was Joe thinking? How could he live in a place like this with the kind of people who live in houses like that?

He pulled off his gloves and shoved them into the pocket of his leather jacket. He just stood staring at the gateway to his new life. His cell phone went off startling him from his musings. Fishing it out of the pocket of his ratty jeans he looked at the caller ID: Joe. He sighed and flipped it open. "Hey Joe."

"Richie, where are you?" came the demanding tone of his former Watcher. "Ducky was expecting you yesterday."

Richie groaned. "I'm fine Joe. I just ran into a little trouble on my way into town but I handled it. I'm in front of the house now, actually."

"A challenge?"

"Yep. You know me, never a dull moment." Richie forced a laugh but in truth the whole night had rattled him. He leaned against his bike and thought about his close call. If Abby hadn't interrupted, his stupid misstep might have cost him his head.

Joe chuckled. "Well, obviously you're ok. Tell me what happened."

"Oh no, Joe. You're not my Watcher any more; you'll just have to wait for Dr. Mallard's report." Richie was not in the mood to talk about it. Besides, it would give him and his new Watcher something to discuss other than how there was no way he was living here.

"You're right. Well, call us again once you're settled. Okay." Joe insisted.

Richie smiled. "You're as bad as Mac sometimes. You know that right." They said their goodbyes and Richie shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Richie would never really be bothered by all the "fatherly" attention. He'd spent the first seventeen years of his life bouncing around in foster care without any one even caring if he came home at night. No, he did enjoy the attention he had from Mac and the others. But that family-like attention was also what had made him put his life on hold, staying safely in Mac's shadow, until Methos told him to go out and get a life of his own.

Joe hadn't had to work very hard to convince Richie to stay with Dr. Mallard, _Ducky_ he reminded himself. After tuition and all the other college expenses, he couldn't really afford any decent place off campus and there was no way he was sharing a small dorm room with some teenager. Immortality and secrets were not ideal conditions for close quarters.

He stared up at the house again. Well, it was all he had for now. He'd go apartment shopping next week before classes started. If Ducky really had found him a job maybe he could afford something with more than one room and air-conditioning.

He walked up the brick steps and rang the bell. He could hear a dog barking – no make that dogs – as he waited. An old woman, who would have been ancient twenty years ago cracked open the door. Definitely Mrs. Mallard.

She eyed him with suspicion. "Who are you?" She demanded.

"Mrs. Mallard," he began tentatively. "I'm Richie Ryan. Your son is expecting me."

"Who?" She repeated.

"Mother, I've got this," came a man's voice. The door was flung open wide and an older gentleman in a bow tie was grinning at him.

"You must be Mr. Ryan." He smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Ducky, please come in. Or, as you're supposed to be my nephew, I suppose I should call you Richard."

"Uh, I prefer Richie." He responded, shaking Ducky's hand and stepping into the foyer. There were antiques and breakables everywhere Richie looked. The house was decorated in stifling "Old Person" circa 1850.

"Donald, why are you letting him in?" She asked and leaned closer to her son to whisper. "He's Irish."

"Mother," Ducky said loudy. "This is Richard Ryan. He's going to be staying with us for a while."

Still staring at Richie, she announced, "I'll go lock the liquor cabinet." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "And I'll know if you've been into it." She turned and slowly headed into another room.

Richie stifled a laugh. This was going to be fun he thought ruefully. That woman was definitely a few fries short of a happy meal.

"Mother!" Ducky sighed. "Forgive her she's a little befuddled sometimes. Come in. Come in." He encouraged.

"Please call me Richie," He said again but figured it was a losing battle. No one had ever called him Richard; that was going to take some getting used to. One more thing for the list, he thought, and one more reason to beat a hasty retreat at the first opportunity.

As he began to follow Ducky down the hallway, he was immediately accosted by two growling dogs. "Nice doggies." He said as he backed away from the small, brown balls of anger.

Ducky shooed the dogs away. The animals preceded them into the room on the left and continued to growl at Richie. "That's Tyson and that's Nelson. They are quite the guard dogs." Ducky acknowledged. "Be careful, Tyson bites.

"Oh great." Richie groaned.

"But not once he gets to know you. They are a handful but Mother loves them like children." Ducky assured him. He waved Richie to one of the overstuffed floral couches in the living room. "Please have a seat."

Richie settled on the sofa opposite Ducky and noticed that there were now four dogs in the room. "Uh…how many dogs do you have?"

Ducky glanced around. "Oh there are four. Those two are the girls Countessa and Elizabeth."

"Terrific. I love dogs." he lied. Well, actually he'd never owned one so really he wasn't sure how he felt about living with dogs. But these four did not seem the lovable type and they'd already made it clear they weren't too fond of him.

This living arrangement was just getting better and better. He was really gonna kill Joe when he saw him again. Richie pasted on a smile and waited for Ducky to start the inquisition.

Ducky looked at him very sincerely. "I want very much for you to feel at home here. You have your own suite upstairs. It used to be Mother's but she stays in the living room now."

Richie was confused as he looked around the living room. "She sleeps in here?" He asked.

"Oh no, this is the parlor. She uses the living room across the hall." Ducky said as he pointed vaguely over his shoulder.

How many rooms did this house have? "Oh, sure the parlor, I knew that." And they each had a different name.

Ducky must have recognized his discomfort and was quick to try to put his mind at ease. "I realize that it may take awhile for you to feel comfortable but I promise unlike Tyson I don't bite and Mother really is harmless." Ducky smiled.

"Hey sure it will be great. I'll be at school and stuff you probably won't even know I'm here." Richie said but added silently, _I wonder if I can sleep in the school library._

"Really the house isn't that big. I'll give you the tour and you'll see. Oh and I shall have to make sure you meet Cook and Mother's nurse tomorrow. Wouldn't want them to think you didn't belong here."

"Cook?" Richie prompted.

"Well yes Mother requires such an unusual diet. It seemed prudent to hire someone full time." Ducky explained. "And Mrs. Simmons, her nurse, will be here while I'm at work. Mother really shouldn't be left on her own these days. You understand."

"Of course," Richie responded automatically. The more Ducky talked the less comfortable he was feeling. He wasn't too put off by the hectic reception and certainly he and Ducky would be working together over the next few years. He just had trouble picturing the kind of fatherly relationship he had with Joe developing with this man and his weirdo household.

"Good. Before the tour, I should like to know why you were late in arriving. Joseph told me to expect you yesterday." Ducky chastised.

Riche was feeling a little guilty about not calling but he didn't want his first conversation with his new Watcher to be; _Hey, just got challenged and if I don't show up tomorrow I'm probably dead_.

"Yeah, I should have called. Ran into a little Immortal trouble." Richie said sheepishly.

Ducky perked up at this news. "Well, you're here so you must have been victorious."

Richie looked down at his hands. "Not exactly. What happened was…" He was about to launch into the story when Ducky held up a hand, stood and left the room.

"One moment, Richard."

He watched him go and really, he was going to have to do something about this whole "Richard" business; it was starting to grate.

Ducky returned moments later. "Let's move to the table in the dining room. I might as well get the story down as you tell it." He smiled indicating the tablet he'd retrieved. "I wouldn't want you to have to repeat yourself."

Ducky led the way across the hall. Richie sat down opposite him in one of the highback dining room chairs. More antiques and more old furniture. Richie wondered if Ducky owned anything that wasn't older than him.

Without preamble Richie launched into the events of the night before. This he could do; he'd done it with Joe often enough. Talking about a challenge, while not exactly comfortable, was familiar and that's what he needed right now.

"Then he stabbed me through the stomach," Richie said. "I had slipped on something. Lost my balance completely. My own fault, I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

Ducky stared at him wide-eyed. "My goodness, how did you hold him off long enough to heal and regain your footing?"

Richie hesitated. There was no way to explain why both Immortals were still alive without mentioning Abby's interruption. He certainly didn't want to admit that he'd blabbed his biggest secret to a near total stranger his first night in town.

"We were interrupted by a girl. She screamed and my Immortal buddy fled." Riche lied. As lies go, he thought it was pretty good. The facts were almost true. "By the time she calmed down, I was healed and able to make a hasty retreat."

"Your opponent is still alive then or did you chase him down?" Ducky asked as he scribbled furiously on his legal pad.

"Wow. Yeah, he is and I assume he hasn't left town." Damn, he thought, in all the craziness with Abby he'd forgotten about the rogue Immortal. "I guess I'll have to go out looking for him soon."

Ducky looked up from his notes. "Really, I don't think that's necessary. I suggest that you let this go for now. I expect that your life will be quite hectic over the next few weeks and there is no reason to go looking for trouble."

Richie was surprised by the tender tone of Ducky's voice. Ducky didn't know him at all and yet he was concerned. Maybe even cared. "Sure, if you think that's best. I'm all for avoiding challenges."

Ducky smiled. "Yes, Joe explained that the Game had evolved away from constant, mindless violence. He told me about Duncan and his friends, including you, who have helped lead it that way. I must say I am glad to hear that. Immortals have so much to offer to the world through their life experiences. I find it tragic when that is lost. I remember one time when I was first part of the Watchers in Paris over 30 years ago…"

Richie smiled. Joe had warned him that listening to Ducky's stories was going to be a full time job. As Ducky spoke, Richie found himself very entertained. He supposed that by the third or forth retelling it might get old but Richie was content to simply enjoy Ducky's reminiscing.

As story drew to a close, Ducky seemed genuinely touched that Richie had sat enthralled the whole time and had have even asked him questions that encouraged Ducky to elaborate on additional points.

"Richard, my boy you are a very good listener." Ducky said

Richie laughed. "You may be the first person to ever tell me that." As he warmed to the older man, Richie found he didn't even mind being called Richard any more.

Ducky smiled. "I think we are going to get along just fine."

* * *

After the grand tour and the basic house rules, Ducky allowed Richie to retreat to his room to unpack. Ducky had even supplied him with his own front door key.

Richie looked around the large bedroom. He'd had whole apartments smaller than this room. It was dominated by a queen size four poster bed. No florals. He breathed a sigh of relief. Richie suspected that the navy blue bedding was new and that the striped wallpaper would probably reveal those awful florals if he were to peel it back. All of which meant that Ducky had gone to the trouble to redecorate.

There was a large eight drawer dresser along one wall and a comfortable looking leather recliner in the corner. Richie set down his two small duffels on the bed and walked to open the doors on the opposite wall. One was a walk-in closet but the other opened into a private bathroom, complete with Jacuzzi tub. Standing in the middle of what had to be the most luxurious rooms he'd ever had, he was amazed at the effort Ducky had made to make him feel at home.

Richie wasn't sure what to make of such generosity but he was feeling less uncomfortable with this arrangement and he was trying to remember why a few hours ago all he could think of was escaping.

He walked over and began unpacking his meager possessions. While he worked, he wondered if Abby were free tonight. It had only been twelve hours since they parted ways at the diner but he had a real desire to talk to her again. He'd never had a friend who knew his secret who wasn't an active part of the Immortal world.

Actually he had a good reason to call her. That Immortal he'd fought was still out there and he should warn Abby just in case the guy had followed them.

He pulled his phone out and dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring. "Hey you," came her distinctly cheery voice.

She must have already put his number in her phone to know it was him. He was a little flattered. "Hey Abby, I just wanted to make sure you got home okay last night." He said as he flopped down on the bed.

"Yep. No worries. And no more encounters with sword wielding crazies." She giggled.

"Hey, I'm not crazy." He pretended to sound indignant.

"Well that remains to be seen. College can have a strange effect on people."

"I'll be careful. Thanks for the warning. Actually speaking of warnings," he hesitated. Standing again, he began pacing around the bedroom. He hadn't thought this out. What kind of warning could he give her?

"Yeah Richie. Is something wrong?" Abby asked.

"You know that other guy is still out there…" He paused hoping she might pick up on his meaning.

"Oh, are you going after him. Can I come? I'd love to watch. Please Richie. I promise to stay out of the way. Unless you're losing then…."Abby continued to ramble on

"Abby." Richie tied to interrupt.

"…of course I'd have to do something. Are you very good? No that's silly you must be…"

Richie wondered how she could say so much and never pause for breath. "Abby!" He said a little more forcefully.

She stopped. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

Richie grew serious. "I just want you to be careful. I will go after him but if you even think you see him around you have to call me. Understood?" He commanded with a little more force than he'd intended

He could hear her laughing. "Yes Gibbs!" She giggled. Richie didn't understand.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"Nothing. Just my way of saying yes, I will call you." She explained.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. "Hold on a minute Abby. I have to get the door." Abby went quiet. Richie was shocked that she could. Smiling at the thought of quiet Abby, he opened the door to find Ducky standing in the hallway.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just wondered what you might want for dinner and…" Ducky began but stopped when he saw the phone at Richie's ear

"No problem, Ducky. Just let me finish this call and I'll be right with you," Richie said and turned his attention back to Abby.

Except Abby was now speaking 100 miles and hour. Well so much for quiet he thought. The only words he caught were 'Ducky' and 'no way'.

"Abby! Hey stop...I can't understand word you're saying." Richie practically yelled into the phone. He made a mental note never to call her on the phone. Conversations with Abby worked much better in person when you could physically restrain her from talking.

He noticed Ducky looking at him funny as he struggled to get a word in edgewise with Abby. Flustered Richie pulled phone from his ear and looked at it as if willing her to be quiet might work better than asking.

"She's a little excited." Richie explained sheepishly.

Ducky eyed Richie suspiciously and gestured for the phone. Richie shrugged and figured why not. He was going to have to explain Abby soon enough.

Ducky took it, pressed the speaker button and said. "Abigail? Is that you?"

She giggled madly and said "Ducky. Oh my God, Ducky. It is you! This is so cool."

Now Richie was surprised. _No way. They know each other._

Ducky was smiling now. "Yes Abigail. It seems you already know my great nephew Richard."

Joe had created a background for Richie as a distant relative of Ducky's including a false name. Richie mentally smacked himself when realized that he'd neglected to use it when he'd met Abby and had actually given her his real name. Considering what she knew about him, that wasn't going to be the biggest issue.

"No way! He's your nephew. Then you must know…." Abby's voice stopped abruptly.

Richie realized that she didn't want to betray his trust. He leaned over to speak into the phone. "It's okay Abby. Ducky knows everything too. He's my Watcher; the one who keeps track of my history."

Richie could see the understanding dawn on Ducky. He looked at Richie. "She was the one who saw your fight. She knows the truth?"

Riche nodded reluctantly.

Ducky sighed. "Abigail. It seems I'm going to need your account for Richie's Chronicle. What are you doing for dinner tonight?"

Abby squeed. "Oh Cool. I'll be right there."

Ducky snapped the phone shut and gave Richie a stern look. So, much for building trust with his new Watcher, Richie thought ruefully.

"I can explain, Ducky. She saved my life and I owed her the truth. And she was very persistent."

Richie was sure he saw Ducky trying not to smile. "Yes, Abby can be that way but that's not the point. And now my co-worker knows your secret," Ducky stopped abruptly. Richie waited for the reprimand to continue but Ducky seemed lost in thought.

"Ducky, I understand you're angry. I should have told you the whole truth but…" Richie drifted into silence as he noticed a smile spreading across Ducky's face. "What?" He prompted and now he was really confused.

"Abby would be perfect. I should have thought of this before." Ducky was speaking as much to himself as to him and Richie wasn't sure where he was going with this train of thought.

Ducky continued to mumble. "She loves this kind of thing. I see no reason not to bring her fully on board."

"What are you saying?" Richie pushed for clarity

Ducky grinned at him. "I think Abby needs to become a Watcher, too."


	6. Common Ground by idontlikegravy

Another chapter by** Idontlikegravy** in our shared series

**Characters:** Tony, Abby and Richie

**Summary**: Richie starts his job at NCIS and meets Tony

* * *

**Common Ground**

Richie's mood had improved significantly with the start of both the semester and his new job. He found to his great surprise that he was genuinely enjoying both. Work gave him plenty of hands-on practice with computers, and plenty of opportunity to socialise with Abby. 

And Ducky, he added to himself. It was good to have people he could talk to, and he was warming to both his new friend and his new Watcher far more quickly than he thought he would when he arrived at Ducky's home. _Guess life is full of surprises_, he thought.

Richie lay on the carpet under a desk, happily installing new hardware onto Officer David's computer, when he noticed a pair of black shoes walk toward him from the cubicle opposite. He didn't know much about brands, but they definitely looked Italian and expensive.

"So, I hear you're related to Ducky?" asked a voice, presumably attached to the shoes. Richie continued working, and answered from his position under the desk.

"That's right, his nephew."

"So which one are you? Huey Dewey or Louie?" asked the voice. Richie stopped working.

"Huh?" he replied, confused. The owner of the voice crouched down so that Richie could see his face. There was a goofy grin on it.

"Uncle Donald? Donald Duck? C'mon, this is funny stuff!"

Richie chuckled politely.

"You must be Agent DiNozzo," he said, holding out his hand. Tony shook it.

"The one and only. You're Richie, right? Richie Mallard?"

"It's Blaine actually; my mom is Ducky's niece. So he's really my great uncle."

"Richie Blaine? Like Bogey in _Casablanca_," DiNozzo said with a smirk.

_Damn_, thought Richie, _I thought no one would figure that out_.

"That's pretty cool," DiNozzo continued. Richie smiled.

"Coulda been worse, coulda been David," he replied with a shrug. Tony looked puzzled for a moment before he smiled broadly and waggled a finger at Richie.

"I get it. That's clever, David Blaine, heh."

"Look, I hate to be rude, but I really want to get this finished so I can get home on time tonight. If I don't pull at least a 3.50 in my classes fall semester, my Dad said he wouldn't fund my Spring Break," Richie explained.

In truth, Richie was funding it himself from his own savings, but he had decided to be firm and only allow himself the holiday if he had earned it. Looking nineteen, people expected him to have parents, so it was logical to use those non-existent parents as an excuse when needed.

"Spring break, or SPRING BREAK!?" Tony asked, punctuating the second 'spring break' by punching the air with both fists.

"Definitely the second. Wall to wall babes I hope," Richie replied, a twinkle in his eye and smile.

"Never let it be said that Tony DiNozzo stood between a bro and Spring Break," Tony replied, a far-away look in his eyes. "Why, the stories I could tell you…well, actually, I was too drunk to remember much of anything, which is what makes them such great…"

"DiNozzo!" called a curt voice from across the room.

"Yeahboss!" Tony replied, quickly jumping to his feet, and scurrying across to the next cubicle.

Richie chuckled softly. _So that must be the famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs_, he thought, before turning his attention back to Officer David's computer.

Richie saw Tony again that evening, as he was getting on his bike, and Tony was walking to his car.

"Have a good evening Agent DiNozzo," he called, and waved. Tony looked around for a second before noticing Richie and replying,

"Oh, thanks, uh, Richie, I…whoa!" he exclaimed, noticing Richie's bike, "Sweet ride! Is she yours?" Tony asked, lovingly drooling at Richie's bike.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, my baby," Richie replied, proudly, and patted the tank.

"How's a student afford a two year old Ducati 999 anyhow?" Tony asked, his natural cop's suspicion coming to the fore.

Richie was prepared to answer this, as Duncan, Joe and then Ducky had all warned him that such a machine was bound to raise eyebrows.

"Worked my ass off senior year, brought up the GPA, and Dad bought it as my graduation present when the college acceptances starting rolling in," he explained.

In truth, Richie had competed in a few races on the circuit, unimportant backwaters where nobody would recognise him, to save his little nest egg. The Ducati had been his one little luxury before college, although he had bought her for much less than retail from a police auction. Once he'd replaced the bullet-ridden gas tank and checked her for stashed drugs, she was as good as new.

"You clearly come from money, so why the crappy NCIS tech job?" Tony asked.

"First, it's a way to pay back Ducky for letting me stay there. Second, Dad told me he wanted me to make my own way in the world, be independent. He offered to pay for Spring Break because he said every man should have at least one good one…"

"I won't disagree with that," Tony said with a grin.

"…but for everything else, I'm on my own, sink or swim," Richie finished.

"Oh, I know how that feels," Tony said sympathetically, getting that far-away look in his eyes again. He shook himself out of it. "Anyway, I thought you had a test to cram for? I'd never normally encourage someone to study, but Spring Break is on the line, dude!" he said. Richie laughed.

"Goodnight Agent DiNozzo."

"Call me Tony."

"Okay, Tony," Richie replied. Tony nodded and walked away, throwing a little wave over his shoulder.

"Wow," said Abby, making Richie start.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that you are very privileged. Tony never lets juniors call him by his first name," she replied, and slurped her Caf-pow.

"I'm not his junior; we're about the same age."

"He doesn't know that. Besides, I meant his subordinates. He usually hates newbies. Especially computer geeks," Abby said sagely. Richie raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Surely he doesn't think all techs are geeks? I mean, you're not," Richie reasoned.

"Ah, but I'm a Goth. Special dispensation. Otherwise Tony pretty much thinks that people who understand stuff he doesn't must be complete nerds. D and D, Star Trek, the whole stereotypical enchilada," she said, adding one of those non-committal half-grins that Richie was coming to think of as her very own.

"Well, I guess I have to convince him otherwise," Richie said and smiled.

"So," Abby said conspiratorially, taking a step toward Richie. "You going hunting?" she asked, giving him a theatrical wink. Richie rolled his eyes.

"Not tonight, gotta study. Besides, it's been weeks, I think he was just a wandering headhunter. Probably long gone by now."

"Scared to face such a badass again, huh?" Abby said with a grin,

"Very funny. Don't worry, if he turns up, I'm obligated to call you," Richie assured her.

"That's right! Now that I'm officially a Watcher in training, I have a reason to watch your ass," Abby confirmed.

"You need a reason?" Richie teased.

"You know what I mean," she insisted and playfully poked Richie with her drink. Richie grinned back.

"Need a ride?" he asked. Abby shook her head.

"Naw, brought the hearse today, thanks."

Richie shook his head and chuckled. He pulled on his helmet and started the bike. Abby waved and he waved back before gunning the bike out into the traffic.


	7. The Tattoo

**Title**: The Tattoo  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan; NCIS: Ducky, Abby and the Corgie: Countessa  
**Summary**: Every Watcher needs the official tattoo.

* * *

**The Tattoo**

"Abby there's one more thing about being a Watcher which I think you will enjoy." Ducky smiled at her. "You have to get the official Watcher's tattoo."

Abby squealed. "You have a tattoo, Ducky?"

They were sitting on opposite sides of the dining room table in Mallard home. Ducky had just finished giving Abby the basics of what it meant to be a Watcher of Immortals.

Ducky laughed, rolled up his left sleeve and held up his arm. There in ugly green ink was the symbol of their secret society.

Abby stood and moved to his side of the table to get a better look. She took hold of his arm and studied the ancient symbol. "Oh wow this is so cool. But does it have to be green?" She asked as she plopped down into the chair next to Ducky.

"I'm afraid it does. It also has to be on your wrist." He explained. "I realize it is not as flashy as some of your other artwork but it is how we identify each other."

"Oh" Abby said quietly.

"What's wrong, Abigail?"

She looked down at her own wrists, adorned with several thick leather bracelets. "I always wear so much jewelry on my wrists; no one will ever see it."

Ducky reached over to grasp her hand. "That my dear is really the point."

"Couldn't I put it someplace else? I'm thinking on my hip or – ooh - maybe my ankle that would be so much cooler. And color. It really could use more color." She turned Ducky's hand over to trace the circular symbol. Mentally she was redesigning the tattoo so that it would go with the myriad of art work already adorning her body.

"Well, I suppose as long as you could easily show it to another Watcher or Immortal when needed…"

"Yes, of course I would. Please Ducky." She gave him her best pouty smile.

He laughed. "I must confirm the idea with Joseph, but if he agrees I see no reason you can't be creative with the location."

She gave a little squeal of triumph. "And the color. Ask Joe about the color." Abby reminded him as she squeezed his hand as if to seal the promise.

"Am I interrupting, something?" Richie asked as he entered the dining room followed closely by Countessa. It seemed the youngest of the four corgies had decided that she was Richie's personal guard dog.

"I'm getting a tattoo." She said as she jumped up to greet Richie with a hug. She then bent down to scratch Countessa behind the ear. "Taking good care of Richie, are you girl?"

The dog whimpered with pleasure at Abby's ministrations.

"Right, the tattoo. Guess that's not gonna be a problem for you." Richie laughed.

She gave Countessa a final pat and straightening to face Richie. "Wanna come with me?"

"Abby," Ducky admonished. "Please wait until I've had a chance to confirm your request to modify the location and color before you go visiting any tattoo establishments."

"No problem Ducky."

"Good. Then let's see what Joseph has to say, shall we." He rose from the table and went into the other to make the call.

Richie raised an eye brow at Abby, "Where exactly do you want to put this tattoo?"

Abby just giggled and let Richie's mind jump to its own conclusions.


	8. Imortal 101 by idontlikegravy

**Title**: Immortal 101  
**Author**: This chapter by Idontlikegravy:

**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: Ducky and Abby; mentions of Richie Ryan  
**Summary**: Ducky begins to teach Abby what it means to be a Watcher.

A/N: This actually takes place before Chapter 7 : Tattoo

* * *

**Immortal 101 by Idontlikegravy  
**

Ducky led Abby out of autopsy and down a corridor that Abby hadn't noticed before. They walked about ten feet before Ducky stopped in front of a door, which he opened and ushered Abby inside.

He flicked on a light and closed the door behind them. She looked around at the small room, taking in the diplomas and pictures on the walls, and the framed photograph of Mrs Mallard on the desk.

"Ducky, you have an office?" Abby said, more than a little surprised.

"Is it really that surprising? Though, I admit it isn't common knowledge. I usually prefer to work in autopsy; I only use this room when I need a little privacy." Ducky explained, and showed Abby to a seat before seating himself on the other side of the desk. Abby nodded and tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially.

"You can count on me to keep quiet."

"I should hope so Abby, or you'll make a terrible Watcher. Now, shall we begin?" Ducky pulled a manila folder from a drawer, along with a large notebook and a laptop.

"Laptop Ducky?"

"Even Watchers have to enter the Twenty-First Century sometime, although we still keep hard copies of everything. Now, as a Watcher, it is your responsibility to know everything about your charge, in this case, Richard. You must try to memorise the contents of his Chronicle, and record every one of his encounters with Immortals and any other noteworthy events in his life. If you can witness it yourself, so much the better, but if you can't for some reason, then your special relationship with Richard means that you can still get a full account of events."

"We don't have a 'special relationship'!" Abby interjected. Ducky sighed.

"That wasn't what I meant. I meant that you are aware of each other. That is very unusual. For centuries, the Immortals didn't even know of the Watchers' existence. Since Joseph instituted some…policy changes, more Immortals are aware of us, but there are still plenty of 'old school' Watchers who would rather keep a distance from their subject." Ducky explained patiently and passed her the folder.

"Are you 'old school'?"

"Not at all! No, in actual fact I had retired entirely from fieldwork. I'm only Watching young Richard as a favour to Joseph. That's why I'm more than happy to share that duty with you, to train you so that you can eventually take over," Ducky said. Abby nodded and opened the folder, scanning the top page.

"It says here that Richie was in foster care," she said, a little sad. "Oh and he never knew his real parents!"

""No Immortal does."

"So, all Immortals are orphans?"

"As far as we are aware, yes," Ducky answered.

"I wonder why that is. Maybe if Richie would let me take some samples, I could examine his blood and DNA, find out what makes him tick," Abby babbled excitedly, gesticulating enthusiastically. "Or if I…Ooh, maybe I could…"

"Abigail, please!" Ducky exclaimed. Abby shut up at the use of her full name. "The Watchers have watched in secret for millennia. We do not interfere, we simply record. That is our primary edict."

Abby pouted.

"I know Ducky, but I don't see the harm. It's not like I'd tell anyone."

"Maybe not, but what if the data fell into the wrong hands? Besides, I think that discovering the origin of Immortals is potentially a Pandora's box we don't want to open. Now, please, can I continue?" Ducky asked rhetorically. Abs looked contrite, so he continued, "All Immortals have to face each other in the Game."

"Ooh, I know this," Abby interrupted. She put on a deep voice, pulled a serious face, and exclaimed, "Because there can be only one!"

"Are you going to take this seriously? Joseph only agreed to you taking over as Richard's Watcher on my recommendation. A recommendation I will withdraw if you don't stop interrupting." Ducky snapped.

"Sorry Ducky, please, continue," Abby said meekly.

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying…" he was interrupted once again, this time by his pager, "Hell's teeth! It looks as though this will have to wait, Abby, it seems we have work to do. Although, you should have plenty of time to review Mr Ryan's Chronicle before the evidence arrives," Ducky said with a grin as he stood up. Abby looked at him and pouted again.

"Nobody said there'd be homework! I hope there won't be a pop quiz," she said with a smile.

"Don't worry my dear, I wouldn't dream of it," Ducky answered. "Yet."

"Seriously?" Abby asked, unsure if Ducky was joking or not. Ducky's smile was inscrutable.

"Of course not, I can't expect you to memorise the file in one day. Especially as Jethro will have you running tests as soon as he can. But please try to at least look at it. Perhaps you might come round for dinner this evening? If we've finished the case of course."

"I'd love to Ducky," Abby replied with a grin.

"Wonderful, then I can continue your lesson then," he walked out of the office, closely followed by Abby. "Take good care of that file. Oh and there's something else we'll need to discuss as well," he finished, disappearing through the door into autopsy. Abby stopped outside, hugging the file to her.

"What? Ducky, what?!" she called through the doors.

"Tonight, Abigail, tonight!"


	9. Always Watching

**Title**: Always Watching  
**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan; NCIS: Ducky  
**Summary**: Ducky has a few issues he needs to discuss with Richie.

* * *

**Always Watching **

Richie headed down the steps toward the front door. As he was about to turn the door knob, a small brown furball began barking.

"Knock it off, Countessa," Richie scolded.

She whimpered and pawed at his leg.

Laughing Richie knelt down to scratch her behind her ears. "I'll be back soon, girl."

"Countessa has really attached herself to you."

Richie smiled up at Ducky who had entered the hallway. "Yeah but she's the only one. Tyson still goes for the kill every time I enter the house."

Ducky laughed, "Well, he will come around eventually."

Straightened up, he admitted. "I just feel bad when I come in late and he goes crazy."

"Are you going out _again_ tonight?" Ducky asked.

"Tony invited me out for a beer. They just finished up a big case and he wants to blow off some steam." Riche explained. "Don't worry. I will do my best to sneak past Tyson so he doesn't wake Mrs. Mallard."

Ducky drew his mouth into a thin line. "Are you sure it's wise to go out so late when you have early classes in the morning?"

Richie was taken aback. "I don't think grabbin' a beer with a buddy is a big deal," he said staring at his benefactor; eyes narrowing. "Is there something else going on here, Ducky?"

Ducky took a deep breath. "Yes actually. I've been meaning to ask you about your workout routine. I haven't seen you training in the weeks you've been here nor have you located a dojo." He paused. "I was concerned."

Richie frowned. "Ducky, I'm very good at what I do. You really don't need to worry if I take a few weeks off." He looked at his watch. "Listen can we do this later? Tony's waiting.

"Of course. I shouldn't question your priorities but as your Watcher I do feel a certain level of responsibility for you."

Richie hesitated before responding, he didn't want to dismiss the older man's involvement. "I'm really touched but I am a grown-up," he reminded him

Ducky huffed a small laugh. "Yes you are. But that doesn't mean I don't worry that something might happen if you aren't prepared."

Richie snickered silently to himself. _What was it about him that brought out the paternal instinct in all his friends?_ Now it appeared that Ducky, too, had added himself to the ranks of his surrogate fathers. He found that realization very comforting. "You know what, you're right. We should talk and maybe I've been lax about my routine."

He looked relieved. "Thank you, Richard. I glad you understand."

"Truthfully, it's always nice to know someone cares that much about where I am and what I'm doing."

"Well now you know that I do." Ducky confirmed.

"I promise; tomorrow I'll find a dojo so I can get back into a routine." Richie stepped forward and laid a hand on his Watcher's shoulder. "Will that make you feel better?"

Ducky nodded. "Yes it will."

"Good, now that we've settled that issue," he grinned as he pointed over his shoulder, "is it okay if I grab a beer with my buddy?"

Ducky gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, my boy, go have fun. I'll make sure Tyson is outside so he doesn't attack when you return."

"Thanks, Duck. I don't think my ankles can take another full-on assault." Laughing Richie headed out the door.


	10. The Tattoo Part 2

**Title**: The Tattoo – Part 2/2 – NCIS/HL  
**Author**: **strangevisitor7**  
**Fandom**: HL & NCIS;  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan; NCIS: Abby, Tony

**Summary**: Abby insists that Richie get a tattoo too.

* * *

**The Tattoo – Part 2**

Abby flounced into Richie's cubicle and planted herself onto the corner of his desk; scattering his neat piles and sending a few papers fluttering to the ground. "Ready to go?" she exclaimed.

Richie made a grab for the wayward pieces of paper and missed. "Go where?" He asked as he stood and moved around his desk collecting the aftermath of Abby's entrance.

"Don't tell me you forgot," she pouted.

Richie straightened the papers back into their original piles, sat down at his desk and tried to think of why Abby had invaded his office. "Guess I have. What's up?"

She rolled her eyes. "Tattoo. Remember?"

Richie gulped _oh yeah_. "Look, Abby I know I promised to go with you…"

"Oh no!" She interrupted. "You're coming and you're getting one too."

"But I'm not a Watcher," he smirked.

"Very funny. You know what I mean. In fact, I designed something for you." She said proudly. Reaching into her pocket, she unfolded a crumpled piece of paper and placed it on the desk in front of him.

Richie studied the design. "A sword? And what's that red stuff on the blade? Is that blood?"

"No, it's not a bloody sword." She laughed and circled the desk. "It's your sword but that's the infinity symbol." She explained pointing to the red line crisscrossing the blade. Get it?"

Richie shook his head. "Uh, it's very colorful?" he offered tentatively.

Abby leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear. "Infinity…Immortality. See it's perfect. Don't ya think?"

Richie was momentarily distracted by the wisp of Abby's breath on his neck and the feel of her pressing against him. When he didn't respond immediately, Abby pushed on his shoulder to get his attention "Richie, don't you like it?"

Shaking off thoughts he should not be having about Abby, he took another look at her sketch. "No…I mean yeah. It's great, Abs," he insisted.

Frustrated, she grabbed the back of his chair and swiveled him around to look at her. She leaned into his personal space and studied his face. "Something's wrong Richie? You hate it don't you."

Richie stared back at her. Lost in her gaze, he felt himself leaning into her. _What the hell, why not?_ he thought, giving into the feeling. "I think it's great," he told her as he began reaching up to bring her the rest of the way in for a kiss when a snarky voice invaded their moment.

"Am I interrupting?"

Flustered, Riche pushed away from Abby and stood up a little too quickly to be convincing in his denial. "Hey Tony. Nope, not interrupting anything at all."

"Hey Tony," Abby said overlapping Richie's greeting. Richie noticed that Abby seemed completely oblivious to what had almost happened. Guess he was being too subtle; not usually a problem for him.

Tony looked from Richie to Abby. "Yeah, right," he quipped. Tony waved off Richie's prepared denial before he could give it voice. "Just wondered if you wanted to grab a beer? McGeek actually decide to grace us with his presence and I figured you wouldn't want to miss out."

"Absolutely, count me in," Richie agreed sensing an opportunity to escape Abby's tattoo plans.

Abby elbowed Richie and the gesture was not lost on Tony. "I'm thinking Abby does not approve?" Tony said with a smirk.

"Sorry, male bonding will have to wait. Richie has other plans." She explained while looking at Richie. Her stance and glare defied him to deny it.

Sighing he realized there was no way out and also that he was having an increasingly difficult time saying no to Abby. "She's right," he said addressing Tony, "I promised to go with her while she got a new tattoo."

"Oooh, where's this one going?" Tony asked as he looked Abby up and down.

"Hey, dirty mind. Stop that," she commanded; a finger pointed authoritatively in his direction. "You don't need to know. It's a surprise."

"But Richie's gonna know. Interesting," he grinned at them.

"It's not like that, Tony," Richie insisted, but could see that Tony didn't believe him.

Abby added. "Richie's gonna get one too! Moral support."

Tony nodded slowly the _yeah right_ expression still firmly planted on his face. "Ok Rich. Whatever you say. See you later," he said and headed toward the elevator.

Richie watched him leave. Tony was never going to believe he and Abby were just friends after this. Richie turned to find Abby giggling uncontrollably.

"He thinks we're together. Isn't that hilarious?"

"Oh yeah, it's a riot," Richie said sourly.

* * *

"You know, Abs, I'm not even sure I can get a tattoo." Richie said as they entered the tattoo parlor.

"Now, I know you're not scared of needles." She laughed and sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area and indicated that Richie should do the same. "Because I wouldn't have thought that was a problem." She leaned over to whisper in his ear, "You know what with the having died a few dozen times; And besides, you'll heal quickly."

"That doesn't mean it won't hurt," he reminded her. "No I'm just not sure it will work. I mean it could just fade away right as the guy does the injection and that could be awkward to explain."

Abby shook her head. "No worries. I called Joe; and boy was he helpful. He told me about dozens of examples of Immortals who've had tattoos. Apparently your body doesn't view the ink as something to be healed away. Isn't that great news?"

"Terrific," he grimaced. After this was over he and Joe were going to have a little chat about him being 'helpful' to Abby.

Abby stared at him. "Are you saying you don't want one?"

Richie looked at the disappointment growing on Abby's face and he realized that that was something he didn't like to see. Not directed at him anyway. "No Abby, I do. I just …well it's permanent, you know."

Abby squeezed his hand. "But that's why you have to do this. Don't you get it? A thousand years from now you'll still have something to remember me by. It's perfect, my own little bit of immortality."

Richie was taken aback. "Wow, Abs…I never thought of it like that. Still, you know I'd never forget you. Ever." He emphasized the last word returning her hand squeeze.

"You say that but I know you immortals. A few centuries can pass and you'll forget me." She sighed dramatically.

"Stop that," he said. "I would love to have your artwork with me forever."

Abby squealed and leaned across the chairs to hug him.

Richie hugged her back; finally understanding how important it was to her that he did this. "Okay," he said breaking their embrace. "But you're going first."

"Chicken."

"Nope, I just don't want to be distracted while you get your Watcher tattoo. I will have to report its location to Tony you know that."

"Don't worry about that. I always show Tony the tattoos. He insists."

Richie cocked an eyebrow and frowned. "Abby where's this thing going?" He asked suddenly worried that Abby and Tony had something more than a simple friendship between them.

"Right here." She said as she pointed to her wrist. "Joe didn't mind me changing the colors a bit but he was adamant that it had to go in the traditional location."

"Oh" Richie said a little bummed that it wasn't going some place more exotic.

"I know! I'm totally bummed too," she exclaimed picking up on his disappointment but not for the reason she thought. "But I redid the design a bit and Joe approved," she said. Abby pulled some papers from her bag and handed them to Richie.

Richie laughed as he looked at the new Watcher design. "Does Joe know that the middle symbol looks like a bat?"

"Nope. He didn't catch my vampire makeover and you are not going to tell him either." She scolded. "It's my little nod to Immortality. You like it?"

"It's terrific, Abby," Richie replied, quite honestly. He flipped to the second paper and studied the artwork she'd created for him. It was good and he actually liked the concept she'd created of the Immortal sword. Richie had to admit that he found the idea of a piece of Abby being with him for all time very comforting. "You know what," he said. "I'm gonna put this on my shoulder. That way, you'll always have my back."

"Richie! That's perfect."


	11. This Is How It Works

**Title**: This Is How It Works  
**Author**: **strangevisitor7**  
**Fandom**: HL & NCIS;  
**Rating**: PG  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan; NCIS: Abby  
**Summary**: Abby watches her first Immortal duel

* * *

**This Is How It Works**

Abby and Richie stood outside the same Goth club that he'd met her leaving that first night in the alley. He was feeling good. A night spent drinking and dancing with his new friend and Watcher was just the thing after his first round of mid-terms.

He'd even allowed her to dress him appropriately: black jeans, black t-shirt; pretty much black everything but he'd drawn the line at the make-up and eyeliner she tried to foist on him. He still had some dignity.

They were heading toward the hearse when Richie paused. The Buzz of another Immortal hit him.

Abby looked at him confused. "Richie, you okay?"

He met her concerned gaze. "Go back inside Abby," Richie said sternly.

"What? Why?" Abby asked and then realized what was happening. "Oh my God. You feel someone. An Immortal. Where is he?" Abby looked around wildly trying to spot Richie's potential foe.

Richie grabbed Abby by both shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Abby, go back inside. I'll handle this."

"Oh no! I'm supposed to watch remember." She said as she wriggled out of his grasp. "Besides, I think you'll need these." Abby held up the keys to the hearse.

Damn. He'd left his sword in the car. Bouncers tended to frown on weapons and this club liked to do random pat downs. He'd decided not to risk bringing it inside.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that the club was in a warehouse district; most Immortals favorite challenging ground. But Richie had figured, with the parking lot just around the corner and crowds of people at the nightclub, that he'd be safe. Even the most aggressive Immortal was reluctant to pull his sword in public. But it was very late, there were few people around and the parking lot felt further away than he remembered.

"Alright you win. But stay close. I haven't been able to spot him yet." He led her quickly down the block and around the building to the parking lot.

Abby gasped "It's him," as they turned the corner; she clung to Richie's arm. It was their 'friend' from that first night. Richie searched his memory for a name…something Polish…Karl Wotjowicz?... That sounded right.

"Ryan, hiding behind your woman again," he mocked. The Immortal had pulled his sword and gestured across the street toward the empty warehouses that lined this industrial neighborhood. "Let's finish this. There's a lovely alley behind that warehouse that will do just fine."

It seemed that Abby, having witnessed the first fight, was no longer a deterrent to the man and Karl obviously felt the neighborhood was deserted enough for their purposes. Richie had to get to the hearse and his sword. He figured there was no way this asshole was going to allow that to happen.

"See tonight isn't going to work for me, Karl. How about Tuesday?" Richie joked. Pushing Abby behind him, Richie started to edge to his right and the hearse.

"I don't think so. You're not getting away from me again. We fight now!" He commanded and began to deliberately close the distance between them.

Richie thought about heading back into the club to regroup when he felt Abby yank the keys from his hand. Focused as he was on the movements of his opponent, it took Richie a moment to realize what she was doing.

He watched as she sprinted toward the hearse. "Abby," he yelled. "Get back here."

Ignoring Abby, Karl laughed. "It seems she has no faith in you." Suddenly Karl stopped his advance and studied Richie.

Richie saw understanding cross his opponent's face, "Huh? No sword?" Karl asked. Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted toward Richie swinging the sword toward his head.

The arc of the sword left Karl vulnerable for a moment. Richie saw his opening and charged. He tackled Karl around his midsection while avoiding the moving sword which sliced through empty space.

Using his forward momentum, Richie slammed them both into a parked car. Keeping Karl in a full bear hug, Richie prevented him from using his weapon effectively.

He clutched at Karl's sword arm and banged his hand against the hood of the car trying to dislodge the weapon. Karl head butted Richie and the two staggered apart at the impact.

Richie was still trying to shake off the lethargy of the blow when he saw Karl's sword enter his peripheral vision. Ducking he felt it whiz overhead. Scrambling Richie took off around another car trying to place an obstacle between him and his attacker. The sword clanged onto the trunk of the car as Karl gave chase.

"It's hopeless, Ryan," Karl taunted as he followed. "You have no sword and you have nowhere to run."

"Oh, I don't know," Richie quipped. "You can't even take out am unarmed man. I'm feeling pretty optimistic about my chances." Richie continued to weave between cars. Keeping one eye on his attacker, he tried to get his bearings on the hearse and Abby.

"Richie. Over here." Abby called. Richie paused to locate the direction of the call. Karl took advantage of his distraction to swing again. This time the sword slashed along Richie's left shoulder as he twirled out of the way. Kicking out, Richie sent Karl sprawling to the ground.

Bleeding, he rounded another truck to find Abby holding his sword out for him. "Get out of here," he yelled as he raced by grabbing his weapon. Abby quickly ducked behind the hearse as Karl came into view.

Richie turned to face him and flourished his sword. "Now, I think the advantage is mine."

Karl skidded to a halt as he saw his opponent was now equally armed. "I had you on the ground once. I should have finished you then but your woman intervened," he growled. "When I'm done with you, she will pay for interrupting my fun."

"You leave her out of this. This is between you and me." Richie commanded. He knew that Karl was using Abby to bait him and he was stupidly letting it work. Mentally, he tried to focus on the calming techniques that Mac had taught him over the years. Abby was safe; all he had to do was live. It was the 'First Rule of Immortality' and so far it had been working for him.

He could feel his shoulder healing. He stood his ground silently, hoping to have a few more minutes for the wound to completely disappear.

At that moment a group of drunken men came loudly into the lot. Both Richie and Karl concealed their weapons. Richie sighed with relief. That distraction was the time he needed to heal and focus.

Karl jerked his head toward the alley across the street and Richie nodded.

"Richie?" Abby came up behind him, "I'm coming too."

Richie turned halfway to face her all the while keeping Karl in view. "While I'm grateful believe me, Abby, you've already inferred too much. You need to go."

"I have to watch." Abby reminded him. "It's my duty."

"Abby please, I don't want to see you get hurt. Gibbs will kill me if anything happens to you, you know that and I think he was just beginning to like me." Richie joked trying to lighten the mood.

Karl's mocking laughter cut through their quiet exchange. "Hurry up and say goodbye to your woman, Ryan. I'm waiting."

Angrily, Abby stabbed a finger in Karl's direction and shouted at him. "You are really beginning to annoy me you big …meanie. Why don't you just leave?"

Karl continued to laugh, "She's a real spitfire. I like that in a woman." He leered suggestively at her. "I'm looking forward to showing her what it's like with a real man.

"Shut your mouth!" Richie said angrily.

"Can't do that. She intrigues me."

"Why, you son of a bitch…" Richie growled and started to move toward him when he felt Abby's hand on his chest.

"Don't," Abby implored. "This is my fault. Don't let him use me to make you angry." Then turning to stare at Karl, she continued. "Just kick his ass and let's go home."

Richie paused and placed his hand over hers. "You're right, you have to watch but please be careful."

Abby nodded and then got a funny look on her face. "What?" Richie asked.

Without warning, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him anxiously. Richie overcame his surprise and responded. The kiss was quick and he pulled back with an unspoken question on his lips.

"For luck," she replied, "nothing more."

Smiling Richie nodded and squeezed her hand in thanks. Addressing Karl, he said, "Let's do this."

"Finally," Karl quipped.

Never taking their eyes of each other they crossed the street. An unspoken truce in effect, they headed toward the alley that Karl had indicated earlier.

Richie could hear the clack of Abby's shoes as she followed a few paces behind. He had truly hoped that she'd never have to see him fight and he sure as hell hoped she wasn't about to watch him die. He could still feel the shadow of her kiss upon his lips and wondered if it could be the beginning of something more.

Once again, Richie mentally slapped himself. Mac would be appalled at how distracted he was during this whole encounter. He was lucky to still be standing and he needed to focus if he hoped to stay that way.

As they entered the alley, Richie hung back to speak with Abby; all the while keeping Karl in view. Carefully he leaned to whisper in her ear. "If I lose, you run. He'll be distracted by the Quickening for a few minutes. Enough time for you to get away."  
Abby stiffened but before she could protest he continued, "Don't argue and don't do anything stupid. You get out and get word to Joe about what happened. He'll send Mac to hunt that bastard down." Richie's tone was fierce and commanding.

She nodded automatically. Richie pointed to alley's lone dumpster. Abby retreated behind it, as Richie turned to face his opponent.

* * *

Abby tried to calm her nervousness. She clung to the railing of the dumpster, oblivious of the smells, and steadied herself. This was so similar to that first night she'd met Richie and yet different because now she understood the consequences of what she was about to witness. She silently prayed for the outcome to be in Richie's favor.

The two men faced each other. No quips or pithy remarks broke the silence. The moment seemed to stretch on forever and then there was the sharp clanging of swords as the battle was engaged.

Abby watched Richie closely, trying to determine if he was the better swordsman. To her as yet untrained eye, she thought he was, but she couldn't be sure. The look of determination on Richie's usually open countenance was strange to Abby.

Richie blocked Karl's initial attack. He stayed on the defensive testing the strength of his opponent and waiting for an opening. Patience was the key. Richie allowed himself to be backed down the alley, feeding the overconfidence of his enemy.

Their swords beat a rhythmic pattern that resounded through the alley. Richie ducked a clumsy overhead swing by Karl and moved past him to dance back down the alley the way they'd come. Karl gave chase. There was an ugly grin on his face as if he believed he was winning.

"Retreating?' he sneered, "But we've barely begun."

Richie held his arms out wide beckoning for Karl's attack but said nothing. He would not be distracted now.

Karl charged and their swords met. Their faces were inches apart as Richie swung down to break the hold and pushed out sending Karl slamming into the wall. He rebounded quickly, slicing for Richie's stomach. Richie jumped back and parried down driving Karl's sword wide right. Karl was thrown slightly off balance and Richie had the opening he'd been looking for. Thrusting upward his sword sliced into him just below the rib cage.

Karl staggered back sword held unsteadily out in front of him. Richie easily knocked it aside as he stabbed his sword straight into Karl's heart.

As the other Immortal sank to his knees Richie pulled his sword free and growled, "Go to hell, you bastard."

Richie swung forcefully, separating Karl's head from his body.

Then the lightning came. Richie screamed and flung out his arms as if to embrace it. The power of the Quickening drove him to his knees. The lights in the alley exploded as the energy reached its apex. After what felt like an eternity, the light show receded and Richie waited on all fours for his strength to recover. Breathing heavily he pushed himself up and felt arms encircle him; helping him to his feet. _Abby_

He stood facing her, "Thanks Abby. I don't think I'll ever get used to the power rush. It really knocks the wind out of you." He smiled but she just stared at him. "Hey, you okay?"

Abby shook her head. "You killed him and it wasn't at all like I expected. The lightning; the sounds. It was…" she trailed into silence.

Richie put his arm around her shoulder. "I understand. It can be overwhelming. Hell, I,m on the receiving end and it's still a little much to take in sometimes."

She didn't hug him back; in fact she pushed him away. "You killed him," she said again and pointed to the decapitated corpse for emphasis. "Doesn't that bother you at all?"

"Of course it bothers me. But that's the Game, him or me. In the end there can be only one. You know that." he said seriously, before joking, "He was an asshole anyway."

"Richie." She chastised.

Sadness flooded through him. He had been afraid of this. She saw him differently; not as a man but as a murderer.

"Abby please understand. I can't escape this part of my life as much as I wish I could. It's not like I enjoy it or anything." He choked back the raw emotion that was threatening to over take him. "Don't you think I hope everyday that I didn't have to do… _that_." He then took her hands trying to make her understand. "I'd love to wake up one day and find out that the Game didn't exist but it does. I've tried to stop participating but in the end the Game always finds me. This is who I am. This is what I have to do to survive." He cast his eyes down afraid of what she must think of him.

She forced him to look at her. He could see that she was struggling to hold back tears. "Oh Richie. I really had no idea what you are going through." She flung herself at him forcing the breath out of him.

She continued talking as she held onto him. "How awful to have this hanging over you every day. To be hunted by crazy men and be forced to kill for your survival. I mean I knew that's what Immortals did. But seeing it; not so much like I imagined." She paused and leaned back to look at him.

"Reality is a bit harsher than the romantic notion of duels between Immortal beings." He finished for her.

She nodded as they separated. "I'm sorry I overreacted."

"Don't be. Believe me you didn't do say anything I didn't think the first time I saw Mac fight." He paused. "We still friends?" he asked hesitantly.

She laughed and punched him on the arm. "Don't be stupid; of course we are."

"That's a relief," he said. And just like that the mood had shifted and they stood smiling at each other. Finally Richie said, "Ready for the messy part?"

She cocked her head. "Messy part?"

"As my Watcher you get to help me clean-up," he explained indicating the decapitated body.

"On no," she laughed. "You made the mess. You can clean it up."

He smiled at her. "Point taken."

"Ooh,Ooh, afterwards, let's go to the diner. I'm starving."

"I did all the work and you're starving?" he grumbled. "Well if you not going to help with the body, can you at least get me the plastic from the trunk?"

"Sure Richie." She smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Be right back"

Richie felt a calm settle inside him as he watched her walk away. Abby understood.  
She'd seen the worst of him and they were still friends. It was enough for now.


	12. Renewed Acquaintances by idontlikegravy

**Title**: Renewed Acquaintances  
**Author**: This chapter by **Idontlikegravy**:

**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: Ducky, Abby, Richie, Methos and Gibbs  
**Summary**: Ducky and Richie find a familiar face on the autopsy table.

* * *

**Renewed Acquaintances**

Ducky pulled on his gloves and approached the autopsy table. The figure lying on it was a Doctor Adam Clifford, but it was hard to tell because of the 90 third degree burns on his body. They were lucky that enough of two fingers had been intact enough to identify Dr. Clifford from his prints. Ducky leaned in toward Dr. Clifford's head and tutted sympathetically.

"You poor fellow. Let's see if we can't find out who did this to you. And why exactly a British surgeon was found dead at a US naval dockyard," he said. His eyes trailed down the body and his face wrinkled into a frown. "That's odd," he commented. Palmer looked up from his clipboard.

"What's that Doctor Mallard?" he asked.

"A curious thing, Mr Palmer. Under the lights of autopsy, these burns look far less severe than they did at the dock."

"How is that possible?" Jimmy asked. Ducky looked at him and shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps they were more superficial than I'd first believed. We shall find our answers with a blade," he answered with a smile. Ducky caught a glimpse of the clock. "My, is that the time? Once you've delivered Doctor Clifford's clothes to Abigail, you might as well take your lunch. I'll take care of the good doctor."

"If you're sure, Doctor," Jimmy said, trying to sound nonchalant, as he was hoping for a lunchtime rendezvous with a certain member of the legal team. At Ducky's nod, Palmer happily grabbed the box of evidence and left.

Ducky continued his exterior examination of the cadaver, but stopped when he noticed a mark on the inside of the man's wrist.

_No, it can't be, _Ducky thought. He lifted the man's arm and his worst suspicions were confirmed. There, on the wrist, was a circular, blue, tattoo. A Watcher's tattoo.

"Oh, you poor man. What were you doing there? Were you killed in the line of duty?" he asked the corpse. He tutted again before he picked up a scalpel. He bent over the body, ready to make the Y-incision, when the doors of autopsy slid open. "Back so soon Mr. Palmer?" he asked, but as he looked up he realized his mistake. It was Richie, not Jimmy, who had entered. "Oh, hello there, my boy."

"Ducky, I just needed to...Oh, sorry, you're doing an autopsy. My bad," Richie said.

"Oh that's okay, you can stay, but I find that most people are generally squeamish in the morgue."

"No, not me. Woken up in too many of them."

"Ah, yes, of course."

"What happened to him?" Richie asked, stepping forward. After a few steps he felt the Buzz and realised that the corpse on the table was Immortal. "Er, Ducky, where's Palmer?"

"He's gone to lunch. Should be back in an hour or so," Ducky replied, absent-mindedly waving his scalpel in the direction of the door as he had already returned his attention to the corpse.

"Good. Ducky, step back from the table," Richie said with a note of urgency.

"Why?" Ducky asked, confused. Richie moved closer and looked at the cadaver. As the scarring from the burns began to fade in earnest, Richie smiled as he recognised Ducky's 'guest'.

"I know him," Richie replied, pointing to the man on the table.

"Know him? I'm sorry dear boy, did he Watch a friend?" Ducky asked. Richie shook his head but otherwise didn't answer for the moment as he focussed on the security cameras mounted in the room's corners.

"Is there any way to shut off the surveillance down here?" he asked.

"Certainly, it's over here...but why?" Ducky asked.

"Because we're about to have company," Richie explained.

"Oh! You mean...oh, well yes, this could be awkward." Ducky went over to the controls and switched off the camera and then returned to take another look at the 'victim'. The burns were fading rapidly now. "I should have realized, how stupid of me! Of course, that was why his burns were worse at the dock," Ducky admonished himself. Looking at the nearly healed face, he gasped. "Why, that's Adam Pierson!"

"You know Adam?" Richie asked, surprised.

"Barely. We were introduced in Paris when I moved from the field to research. He was working on the Methos Chronicles at the time. I'd heard the rumour that he was Immortal of course, but I had no idea. You know, this isn't actually the first time that a Watcher turned out to be playing for both sides, as it were. I recall being told a fascinating tale about such an instance, back in my youth…" Ducky said. Richie could tell this was going to turn into one of Ducky's soliloquies.

"Ducky, shouldn't we seal off autopsy?" he interrupted. "Last thing we need is for Jimmy or Gibbs to walk in and see…"

"Walk in and see what?" asked a curt Gibbs from behind Richie. Startled, Richie spun around, but Ducky stepped forward, unflappable as ever and answered.

"That I may have made a mistake, Jethro. I'm afraid this poor chap may have died of a disease or chemical agent, not a fire. I'll have to seal off autopsy for a while, until I can confirm there's no risk. So I need you to leave now please before you get any closer," Ducky explained, motioning for Gibbs to leave.

"What about him?" Gibbs queried, sceptically, pointing his thumb in Richie's direction.

"Richard has already been exposed to whatever risks there may be. It's better he remain here where I can treat him if he becomes symptomatic. Now go!" Ducky instructed, ordering a reluctant and suspicious Gibbs from the room before sealing the door behind him and instigating quarantine procedures. As Ducky watched through the door, Gibbs looked back from the elevator, so Ducky gave him a little wave.

"That was close," Richie said with a sigh of relief.

"Indeed," agreed Ducky, his eyebrow raised.

"Closer than you think," said a voice behind them. They both turned to see Methos sitting up on the table. Richie grinned.

"How's it going old man?" he said. Methos looked at him and laughed.

"That's enough of that, brat. My, my, Richie Blaine! Of all the morgues in all the world, I had to wind up in NCIS," he remarked. Richie half laughed, half groaned at the atrocious joke.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Dr. Pierson. Or should that be Clifford?" Ducky asked. Methos glared at Richie, who put his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "Oh, don't blame Mr. Ryan. I'm Dr. Donald Mallard, Richard's Watcher. You probably don't remember, but we met in Paris, oh fifteen years or so ago," Ducky explained, holding out his hand to shake Methos'. Methos nodded in recognition, but he didn't take the proffered hand.

"Relations between me and the Watchers are…strained at the moment," Methos explained.

"Ah, yes, of course. Well, I see that as no reason for us not to be amicable," Ducky reasoned.

"Yeah? Well a good start to our amicable relationship, Dr. Mallard, would be if you could fetch me my clothes."

"Yes of course! Oh, this could be a problem,"

"What's wrong Ducky?" Richie asked.

"Well, Dr. Pierson's clothes were too badly burned to be of any use anyway, but I sent all his things up to Abigail."

"No problem, we'll just call her up and explain," Richie began, heading to the phone.

"Wait a minute! Does everyone around here know about us?" Methos demanded.

"Take a chill pill, old man. It's cool, Abby's replaced Ducky as my Watcher. Didn't Joe tell you?"

"I've been out of Seacouver for a while and I hadn't kept up with your busy social calendar."

Richie laughed. "Abby witnessed a challenge, embraced the whole Watcher gig, so Ducky and Joe agreed it was best if she took over," Richie explained. Methos shook his head.

"Whatever. Can I just get my clothes back?"

"What's wrong with you? You aren't normally this bad tempered," Richie said.

"Forgive me for lacking my usually witty banter. Waking up in a strange morgue does that to me," Methos snarked.

"That's not my fault though. Jeez. So, Ducky, about those clothes?" Richie asked, sorry he'd brought up the subject.

"Although I suppose they will have been recorded by now? Can we get them back without arousing suspicions?" Methos asked. Ducky shook his head.

"Unlikely. An evidence log will have been made, the clothes can't just vanish, they need to be accounted for," Ducky explained. Richie groaned.

"Was there anything in the clothes that could ID you?" he asked Methos.

"No, nothing like that, it was all in my locker at the hospital," Methos answered. "I did have my sword and my gun. What happened to them?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, nothing was brought in with your body. They must have been taken, or thrown clear when…what exactly happened to you?" Ducky said.

"Wish I knew. I was over here, consulting on a case at Bethesda. I was just taking a stroll between surgeries, next thing I know I wake up here. I'd love to know who's responsible though, he ruined a perfectly good Bulgari watch," Methos griped.

"Really? It's not like you to dress like that," Richie commented.

"No, it's not like Adam Pierson to dress like that because he was a penniless scholar. Adam Clifford on the other hand, is a respected and wealthy surgeon who drives an Aston, wears high-end designer labels and lives the high life. After all those years as Pierson, I decided I earned it," Methos replied with a grin.

"Oh. How _do_ you keep track of who you are?" Richie asked with a laugh.

"Practice. Now, about those clothes? It's getting a little nippy in here…"

"Yes, apologies _Dr. Clifford_, I'll find you a set of scrubs for now. Richie, do you keep a spare set of clothes here?" Ducky said as he went to a cupboard and tossed Methos some scrubs, which he gratefully pulled on.

"Hell yes, I can't wear this monkey suit on the bike. I keep spare jeans and a tee in my locker… Oh, but I can't leave autopsy because of the quarantine," Richie replied.

"That's simple enough. Abigail can fetch those things. Call her and tell her your locker combination." Ducky said. Richie nodded and headed to the phone. Ducky turned to Methos. "So, you were working on the Methos Chronicles. I'm sure that would make fascinating reading."

"It's very long," Methos replied, warily.

"Oh, yes, ha!" Ducky chuckled. "You know, I always thought it would be the perfect cover for Methos himself. He'd be able to check the accuracy of his own Chronicles, edit out anything he doesn't want us to read, or anything that might lead to his current whereabouts, all the while remaining the enigma that has probably helped him to keep his head all this time. We're all out, scurrying around looking for him, and he's at Watcher headquarters the whole time," Ducky pointed out, eyebrow raised, challenging 'Adam'.

"Well, if I ever meet him, I'll suggest it," Methos replied coolly. Ducky laughed.

"Indeed," he replied.

"So, with the Watchers long?" Methos asked, changing the subject.

"Too many years. I'd practically retired, just doing the odd bit of research, until Joseph asked me to take in young Mr. Ryan. I was in the field, then when I got too old I switched to research. Worked in the Paris branch for a while, when it coincided with an NCIS assignment, well NIS as it was then of course…" Ducky said, beginning to warm to his topic.

At that moment, Richie called Ducky over to speak to Abby.

"Smart man, that Dr. Mallard," Methos commented to Richie as he returned. Richie smiled, a little puzzled, and nodded. Ducky hung up the phone and returned to where they stood.

"She'll be here shortly," Ducky said.

"In the meantime, shouldn't we be figuring out how to sneak Adam out of NCIS headquarters?" Richie pointed out.

"I must say, you certainly get a better class of morgue in federal buildings," Methos commented, surveying his surroundings properly for the first time.

"I suppose you must be an expert on the subject, by now," Ducky said. Methos smiled enigmatically.

"Like I said, smart man. Has this place got a back door?" he said.

"I'm afraid it won't be that simple. Security on the building is tight since…an incident down here a few years ago," Ducky said, his face darkening. _It's ironic how similar this situation was to that terrible night_, he mused. "Plus I have to explain your body's disappearance. I'm not quite sure how to put that to Gibbs, he's not the most understanding individual. No, I think the best thing, is if you walk out the front door," Ducky finished.

"I'm sorry, have you gone completely nutso?" Methos asked. Richie stared at Ducky, sharing the same thought with Methos.

"Hear me out. We'll say that we made a mistake, that this was…Daniel Clifford. We pretend that the body was that of your identical twin, which we mistakenly identified as you from prints. Quick phone call to a contact of mine at immigration and we can create a false visa, enough to fool a cursory examination. Later on Abigail and Richard can create all the necessary documents for your dead twin," Ducky explained.

"Identical twins don't have Identical prints," Methos said, "but I see where you're going."

"Well, we can put forth some kind of clerical error." Ducky suggested. "I'm sure Abby can make the necessary adjustments."

"Shouldn't be hard to do." Richie agreed.

Ducky laid out the rest of the cover story.

"Let's say that in researching you for the case, Abby discovered the possibility of a twin so she contacted me to make sure we had identified the correct person. I made a call to Bethesda to talk to your colleagues and realised our mistake, so I spoke to you on the phone and asked you to come in. Gibbs won't be happy about me contacting you before telling him, but we'll manage," Ducky continued.

"It's sneaky, and so convoluted it just might work. You think fast Doctor Mallard," Methos said, genuinely impressed.

"Ducky, please. And a combination of working for the Watchers and with Leroy Jethro Gibbs has meant I've had to learn to think on my feet. I remember one instance in Budapest, in my youth…"

"What about the quarantine? If Gibbs comes back and it's still active, and then there's no body…" Richie interrupted.

"Good point Richard," Ducky conceded. Methos snorted with laughter.

"Richard?" he said.

"It's my name isn't it? _Adam?_" Richie said pointedly. "So, Ducky?"

"Oh that's easy to solve, I can end that now," Ducky answered and went to turn off the red sign and unlock autopsy. "If Gibbs comes down I can tell him the body is in a drawer already – he never looks at them again once I've filed them away. Now, I'd best make that call," he finished and walked over to his phone.

Almost as soon as the quarantine was ended, Abby walked through the door of autopsy, carrying a sports bag.

"Sorry I took so long, Gibbs came into the lab. This is so cool!" she said, positively bouncing. Methos rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag from her hands. "You must be our guest," Abby said, a broad grin on her face. Methos looked at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"And you're the Watcher. What exactly do you do here? You don't look like an agent. Unless you're going undercover," Methos commented as he studied her eclectic attire, his amusement plain.

"I'm the forensics expert," she replied, curtly. Richie held his breath, he had a feeling the Old Man was about to get a tongue lashing, Abby style.

"A lab gremlin? You don't look much like one of them either," Methos said, eyebrow raised. "In my experience they're never as pretty as you," he added. Abby blushed, and Richie let out the breath he was holding when he saw that Methos had won Abby over and her anger was assuaged.

"Are all Immortals as charming as you and Richie?" she asked. Methos' grin broke into a smile and he chuckled warmly.

"I don't know about the kid, but most of us have had centuries to polish our technique," he replied.

"With me it's a natural talent," Richie said with a grin, causing the other two to laugh. "Hey, don't underestimate the Ryan charm. Just think, in a century or so it will be a lethal weapon," he added, eliciting more laughter.

"It's a lethal weapon now. To your love life that is," Methos teased.

"Hey!" Richie protested.

"You have to admit Rich, you haven't been too successful with the ladies since you got here," Abby pointed out.

"Only because I've got no time! Not because I struck out. You're supposed to be my friend," Richie said, poking Abby and pulling a 'wounded puppy' look. Abby pulled the same expression, only better, and pinched Richie's cheek.

"You know I was only joking," she said. Richie smiled and nodded, so she smiled back.

Methos pulled out Richie's clothes from the bag.

"Well, they're not exactly designer, and is this oil?!" Methos asked, examining a smear on the jeans.

"Well, if you want to go home in scrubs…" Richie said, making a grab for the clothes. Methos pulled them out of reach.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," he said.

Ducky finished his phone call and crossed back toward them.

"One visa in the name of Daniel Clifford will be in the system in about an hour," he said. "Then, Abigail, if you could create the necessary documentation for Daniel's existence? Oh, and we'll need a fake police report on a rental car being pulled from the harbour," Ducky said.

"What for?" Richie asked.

"I think I have an idea how to forestall any further investigation by NCIS," Ducky answered.

"It might take a while, to make it convincing enough for Gibbs and McGee," Abby said. "And what if he wants to see this imaginary car?"

"Guess the LEO's lost it," Ducky grinned.

"This is not going to be easy to pull off," Richie said to Methos. "Next time die a little more discreetly will you?"

"How about a big race crash?" Methos snapped back. Richie had the decency to look abashed.

"Come on Richie. I'm gonna need your help on this," Abby said, grabbing him by the arm.

I'll do what I can," Richie said as she dragged him out of autopsy

Methos watched them leave and smiled. Their body language made him think that they wouldn't be 'just friends' for very much longer.

"Okay Dr. Mallard, what's next?" Methos asked.

-

The elevator doors opened and Richard Blaine escorted Dr. Adam Clifford into the bull pen. He led him over to Tony, who did a double take when he saw the doctor's face. He looked at the plasma screen, then again at the man in front of him. Then he looked at Richie, who shrugged.

"This is Dr. Adam Clifford. He came in to see Ducky and identify the body of his brother. Ducky thought he should come speak to you guys," Richie said, repeating the line Ducky had given him. Tony stood up.

"I think Dr Clifford should speak with Gibbs," he said, and led Adam towards the interview rooms. Richie watched them go, then with a smile he headed back to the elevator.

-

"You did what!?" Gibbs barked, verging on apoplexy. Ducky maintained his smooth veneer and calmly replied,

"I released the body for cremation, Jethro."

"How could you release the body?!" Gibbs demanded. A lesser man might have quailed, but Ducky wasn't fazed.

"That man's death was unfortunate, but not murder. Ridiculous as it may seem, there was no foul play involved. His car was pulled from the harbour with an empty petrol can on the passenger seat. It seems poor Daniel Clifford attempted suicide, but got cold feet, or in this case warm. He must have jumped out of the car, aiming for the water, and missed. Ironically, if he'd stayed in his car he might have survived."

"I don't know Duck, something just seems…" Gibbs tried to find the right word for what his gut was telling him. "…hinky."

"His brother confirmed that he had been depressed. He had hoped that this trip to the States would help, but alas it didn't. And NCIS doesn't investigate suicides," Ducky answered. He could see that Gibbs wasn't convinced, but he stuck to his story. "Is it the famous Gibbs' gut that makes you think that something is wrong? Then I think it's acting up today. Maybe you had some bad shrimp?" Ducky suggested.

Gibbs chuckled, but he didn't accept Ducky's explanation. He knew his old friend was hiding something, and his gut was definitely telling him that something about Ducky's 'nephew' was at the source. One day soon, he and Ducky needed to have a little talk about Richard Blaine.


	13. Bonding Over Beer & Babes by idontlikegr

Idontlikegravy actually wrote this a while back and I somehow forgot to post it.

**Title**: Bonding Over Beer and Babes By idontlikegravy

**Author**: This chapter by **Idontlikegravy**:

**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: Richie Ryan, Tony Dinozzo  
**Summary**: Richie and Tony go out for a drink

* * *

**Bonding Over Beer and Babes by idontlikegravy**

"Hey, Tony! Free for a beer?" Richie asked amiably as he spotted Agent DiNozzo heading for the elevator. Tony paused, waiting for Richie to catch up.

"No studying tonight?" Tony replied, only semi-serious.

"You have to cut loose sometime," Richie replied with a grin.

"Something I'm always telling McGeek. Sure, why not."

Tony drove them to a bar he knew, the pair chatting about nothing in particular during the journey. They went in, found themselves a booth, and ordered a couple of beers. Both flashed their most winning smile at the cute waitress, who nearly melted from such a full on assault. Tony took a sip of the beer and sighed with satisfaction.

"I don't get to do this nearly enough these days. NCIS is pretty much 24/7. If I'm not on a case, then there's paperwork, training…"

"I get that. Between school, NCIS, chores for Ducky…I thought I might make a few extra bucks teaching self defence, but I don't get time to train myself. I hardly get time to breathe!" Richie said.

"But it's worth it though," Tony said. Richie nodded in agreement. "Teaching self defense? You must be pretty good," As if to demonstrate, Tony karate chopped the air, causing Richie to snort his beer. When he stopped spluttering, he answered,

"I don't know about that. My teacher still has me landing on my ass more than I'd like when we spar. But yeah, I can hold my own."

"Is there no end to your depths? What other secrets are you hiding Richie Blaine?" Tony asked, teasing.

"Nothing," Richie answered, a little too quickly, although he kept his tone light, and managed a chuckle. "I have no depths. What you see is what you get," he finished, and grinned before taking another swig of beer.

"So, how's it going with Ducky?" Tony asked.

"Pretty good actually."

"Really? Mrs Mallard taken a liking to you?"

"Not exactly, I just avoid her as much as possible. Although she nearly sent me running from the house a few nights ago," Richie said earnestly. Tony laughed.

"She set the dogs on you?"

"I saw her sleep-walking."

"So?" Tony asked, innocently.

"Ducky never told you? She has these…episodes as Ducky calls them, when her mind wanders."

"Oh yeah, I've had experience of that," Tony said, ruefully.

"Well, sometimes she forgets she lives with her son, thinks she's still younger. When she thinks that, she prefers to sleep the way Marilyn Monroe did," Richie explained.

"You mean…Chanel No. 5?" Tony asked, realisation dawning.

"And nothing else," Richie confirmed, shuddering. Tony pulled a face.

"Gah! There's an image I didn't need. But, I hope _she_ only wears perfume to bed," Tony finished, indicating an attractive blonde at the bar. Richie murmured his approval. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"It's okay, you saw her first," Richie answered.

"Heh, I appreciate the 'bros before hos' ethos, but I'm already spoken for. Seriously, be my guest. Scuttlebutt says that you're a player, let's see you play."

"That sounds like a challenge. You're on. If I get her number, you buy the next round, deal?"

"Deal," Tony said with a smile. He watched Richie walk over to the bar, full of the confidence of youth. _Ah to be twenty one and full of hormones_, he mused. He watched Richie as he smiled and offered the girl a drink. She smiled back. _Score one for the home team,_ Tony thought. Richie then said something that the girl must have found amusing, because she laughed, then nodded and reached for a napkin._ He hasn't, he didn't!_ Tony couldn't believe what he was seeing, but the girl was definitely writing something on the napkin.

Richie gave the girl a peck on the cheek, and strolled back to the table, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He placed the napkin on the table, and there was a phone number written on it.

"That has got to be some kind of record. I've gotta admit it, I'm impressed. I'll happily buy the next round," Tony admitted with a smile.

"What can I say? It's a gift," Richie replied.

"So, should Abby be jealous? Cos, you know, she knows how to murder someone without leaving a trace," Tony said.

"Me and Abs? No, we're just friends."

"Seem to be spending an awful lot of time with her…" Tony left the insinuation hanging. Richie shook his head.

"She's just helping me with college stuff. She's such a genius, makes me feel like a complete idiot,"

"So you're not interested?"

"I wouldn't say that…" he shrugged. "But we're friends, and that's less complicated. My life is complicated enough right now." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"More secrets?" he asked. Richie laughed.

"I told you, I don't have time to breathe, let alone have any secrets! Now, about that bet, I think you owe me a beer?" Richie said, waving his empty glass at Tony. Tony acquiesced, and headed to the bar.

Sometime later, Richie waved and smiled as the blonde left the bar with her friend. Tony waved politely, then glanced at his watch.

"Ooh, I think we better call it a night. I've got an early morning and Gibbs really doesn't like it if I'm late," Tony said, regret in his voice.

"Hey, if you can't kick it anymore oldtimer…" Richie teased.

"I'm not that old! And it's Gibbs who'll be doing the kicking. Trust me; you do not want to get on his bad side."

"It's cool. I've got an early class anyway," Richie said, standing and reaching for his coat. Tony did the same, and the two walked outside.

As they headed across the parking lot back to Tony's car, they heard a commotion from a nearby alley. Richie's Immortal constitution meant he was already sober and alert, and Tony had stuck to soda after the first couple, so they immediately recognised trouble.

The two men headed toward the alley cautiously. Tony reached back for his weapon, then realised he had left it in his car to prevent any attention from the bouncers. Cursing his bad judgement, and knowing there was no time to go back for the weapon, he went for his badge instead. He hoped that would be enough.

They rounded the corner to find the blonde and her friend being assaulted by a group of five men.

"Freeze! Federal Agents!" Tony called out. He and Richie were still in the shadows, but both had dropped into ready positions. DiNozzo hoped that the men would assume them to be armed and not do anything stupid.

Their luck was in; two of the attackers bolted the minute Tony voiced his warning, leaving only three. Unfortunately, the three that were left were all armed with knives. Two of them advanced on Richie and Tony, leaving the third to hold the girls captive. They came closer and smiled when they saw that Richie and Tony were unarmed.

_Richie, I hope you're as good as you think you are, _Tony thought. He didn't have any more time to worry about his young friend, as his opponent attacked him. Tony ducked as the guy swung his knife, then brought up his fist to the man's gut, winding him. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted it, making him drop the knife. He wrenched the arm around, bringing the mugger to his knees. Fortunately, he had brought his cuffs, and he snapped them onto the mugger's wrists.

Breathless, Tony looked up to find Richie's opponent already unconscious on the concrete a few feet away. Richie was looking after the girls, who were safe. The third mugger was also lying on the ground, unconscious.

"Nicely done!" Tony exclaimed. Richie grinned sheepishly.

"What can I say? It's something about damsels in distress, brings out the best in me," he replied. Tony pulled his phone and dialled 911.

When he had finished his call, he hung up and surveyed the scene.

"I guess you are pretty good with that kung fu stuff," he commented. Richie shrugged. "You know, you're wasting your talents as a geek. I think you should consider becoming an agent after graduation."

"Seriously?" Richie said, excited by the idea. Although he knew it would be impossible. There was no way his current alias would stand up to the kind of scrutiny needed to become a Federal Agent.

"Sure. I'd even write you a letter of recommendation."

"Thanks Tony, I appreciate that. But hey, that's four years away. In the meantime, I'm happy messing with computers," Richie replied.

Tony looked sceptical, but any further discussion was cut off by the distant sound of approaching sirens.


	14. Ducky's Nephew

**Title**: Ducky's Nephew  
**Author**: **strangevisitor7**

**Summary**: Gibbs has his suspicions about Ducky's nephew Richie but isn't getting any answers

* * *

**Ducky's Nephew**

Ducky was elbow deep in the chest cavity of their latest victim. He'd already reported all he knew to Gibbs and yet the man was still hovering. He'd even completed a rather amusing story about a similar victim while Gibbs had listened attentively and without interruption. It was then that Ducky knew something was on the man's mind.

"It is a stabbing with no other unusual circumstances," Ducky repeated

Gibbs just nodded and continued to watch the autopsy.

"Was there something else about this victim that I should know?" Ducky asked. It wasn't like Gibbs to linger and until he was willing to share, Ducky was going to have to endure an audience.

Gibbs shook his head but continued to say nothing.

Ducky pulled out the heart and laid it on the scale. He turned to face his audience. Unless he pushed, the man would be content to wait and Ducky was a less patient man than Gibbs when he was trying to get his work completed.

"Then am I to assume there is some other reason for your continued presence at my table?"

Gibbs looked up to meet his friend's stare. "Nephew, Ducky?"

And there it was. He had been waiting for Gibbs to question his relationship to young Mr. Ryan. Ducky had been prepared for this inquisition when Richard had first arrived at NCIS but it hadn't occurred. His 'nephew' had been on the job for weeks and Ducky had forgotten about explaining the situation to Gibbs, then Adam Pierson had shown up on his autopsy table. He'd hoped that Jethro would put aside his famous gut in acceptance of the story that Ducky had spun, he should have known better.

"Grand nephew, actually."

"Didn't think you had any relatives in the states."

"I don't believe it ever came up in conversation before, Jethro." Ducky said evading the direct answer. "Is the lad causing you some problem?"

"Haven't really spoken to him." Gibbs said but the expectation that Ducky would share was clear in his tone.

"You will let me know if there are any issues?" Ducky offered knowing that Gibbs was not satisfied with the non-information he'd supplied. "I wouldn't want him to receive any special treatment."

"Of course not, Duck." Gibbs replied with a half-smile. "I'm going up to see Abby. Let me know if you want to share any more information."

Ducky watched as his friend exited Autopsy and knew that Gibbs wasn't referring to the dead body.

* * *

As Gibbs entered the bull pen, he watched Tony quickly end his conversation with Ducky's nephew and make him self busy at his computer. "Hey boss," he called out cheerfully.

Gibbs gave a silent chuckle at Tony's attempt to prove he'd been working hard the entire time. "Got that report, DiNozzo," he snapped as he strode by.

"Right here Boss," the senior agent said as he followed Gibbs to his desk to hand him the file.

Jethro didn't look up as he seated himself behind the desk and took the proffered folder.

Tony backed away. "I'll be over here if you have any questions," he muttered as he retreated to his desk.

A shadow fell across Gibbs' desk and he looked up to see Blaine standing there. "Something you need?" he glared at the intruder.

Richie smiled broadly, seemingly unaffected by the patented 'don't-bother-me' Gibbs stare. "I have some updates I need to install on your computer," he paused before adding a belated, "Sir."

Gibbs studied the young tech. He couldn't be more than twenty but something about him didn't fit. Most newbies cringed under his stare but this kid was smiling at him. Add to that the situation last week that Blaine seemed to be in the middle of with the cremated remains of Dr. Clifford and his gut was in over drive. "Can it be done later? I'm working here." He said sending him another withering glower.

Richie met his gaze unfazed. "Sure. You can actually do it yourself. They just told me I should do it for you." Richie explained brightly. "You just need to go into the S: drive and download the program…" Richie stopped as he heard snickering behind him.

"Something funny McGee?" Gibbs snapped.

"No boss. I just – downloading – never mind." McGee stammered and immediately went back to work on his computer.

Gibbs felt better. He obviously still had power over McGee. "Get it over with," he said as he moved to let Richie have access to his computer.

"Thanks," Richie sat at the desk and began performing the updates. "This will only take a few minutes."

"So, Ducky's nephew?" Gibbs prompted. The demand for an explanation clear in his tone, or so he thought.

"Grand Nephew actually." Richie replied without looking up and didn't elaborate.

"Uh huh." Gibbs said, unconvinced, and the kid didn't even sound ruffled. He wanted to ask more but this wasn't the time or the place instead he just wanted the boy gone from his space. "You done yet?"

"Almost," Richie punched a few more keys and then looked up. "Just have to wait for it to download," he said grinning up at the older man.

The kid was respectful and yet there was something else in his demeanor that bothered Gibbs. The entire situation was frustrating but also confirmed in his mind that Blaine was hiding something.

The computer chimed.

"All done, Agent Gibbs. Do you want me to walk you through the changes?" He asked.

"No. Now out of my chair."

"Of course." Richie said still smiling as he relinquished the desk back to its owner. "Just call if you need anything," he said and headed out of the bullpen. He paused briefly to give a silent _What?_ to Tony who was just staring at him.

_Later_ Tony mouthed back.

The kid had survived his first real encounter with the scary Agent Gibbs with nary a stammer or drop of flop sweat to show for it. Gibbs wasn't happy with the idea that he might be losing his touch.

"McGee!" he barked.

"Yeah Boss." The probie responded with the appropriate level of wariness in his voice.

Gibbs smiled to himself. "Never mind."

Well it wasn't him. His gut was right - there was definitely something off about Ducky's nephew.

* * *

Richie entered the bar and spotted Abby and Tony waving him over to their booth. Friday happy hour was a rotating affair. It seemed this week it was just the three of them. He slipped in next to Abby as Tony handed him a beer with a flourish.

"Here's to Richie. He survived his first encounter with Gibbs and his computer."

Richie laughed. "You make it sound like combat."

"Abby you should have seen it. Richie is all smiles and I swear Gibbs got flustered. Gave McGee hell after you left."

"Tony. What's the big deal? He seemed a little grumpy is all. Certainly not the scary man you all make him out to be," he said. Since Gibbs wasn't after his head, there wasn't must weight behind all the glowering as far as Richie was concerned.

"Good for you," Abby said giving the Immortal a one armed hug. "Gibbs is not scary."

Tony snorted.

"Really Tony," Riche prompted. "I don't get why everyone is so afraid of him."

Tony smiled knowingly. "You say that now but I don't think he likes you. Had McGee pull up you personnel files and everything."

Richie almost did a spit take on his beer. "Why would he do that?"

"You sure, Tony?" Abby asked as she exchanged a worried glance with Richie. If anyone could uncover the holes in Richie's cover story it would be Tim.

"Guess something about you did not compute," Tony snickered at his own joke.

"So what did Gibbs find out about me? That I got sent to the principal's office a few too many times in high school?" Richie asked trying to sound lighthearted.

"Don't know but if Gibbs' gut tells him there's something off – well you should be on your best behavior," Tony warned him.

"Okay. Now I am feeling scary Gibbs," Richie admitted.

Tony laughed. "Welcome to my world. It creeps up on you but it's always there."


	15. The Blaine Identity

**Title**: The Blaine Identity

**Summary**: Gibbs' gut tells him Richie isn't who he says he is and Gibbs' gut is never wrong.

* * *

** The Blaine Identity **

Tim followed Gibbs as he motioned the junior agent toward the elevator. Once the doors closed, Gibbs stopped the car and waited.

"I didn't find anything unusual," McGee admitted as he handed over the file he'd been compiling; his whole demeanor apologizing for letting Gibbs down. "Richie's background checks out: recent high school graduate, enrolled at Georgetown. Finger prints came up clean, no record.

"And his connection to Ducky?"

McGee sent Gibbs a curious look. "I didn't check the validity of that. I mean I didn't think there was any question that he was Ducky's nephew."

"Don't assume. I told you to check him out," Gibbs growled. "That means everything."

McGee nodded furiously. "No problem, Boss. I'll get right on it. Trace his family tree as far back as I can."

Gibbs flipped through the slim folder, disappointed by the lack of information "You didn't tell anyone about this did you?

"Course not. I mean Tony knows but – " Tim stopped and cringed as the famous Gibbs glare hit. "It was an accident. He saw what I was working on and I had to tell him."

Gibbs sighed. So much for secrecy. He should have had Tim do the research on his own time.

"I still don't understand why you want me checking into Richie's background," McGee said tentatively.

"Need to know, McGee," he replied curtly as he closed the file and changed tactics. "You've been getting to know him. Anything suspicious come to mind?"

"No Boss. He's just a nice guy. Really knows his IT stuff and from what I've heard, doing a great job. Tony thinks he's cool, which is strange 'cause Tony usually tortures the newbies but that's not investigative strange." Tim tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice as he continued, "And Abby really likes him."

"What do you mean Abby really likes him?"

McGee blanched as he realized that Gibbs' protective streak was on high alert. They both knew that Abby hadn't had the best track record in her love life. "Tony thinks they are together but I told him he was wrong. And why does this matter again, Boss?"

Gibbs didn't answer but just punched the elevator button to start its decent once more. The doors opened and he pointed at McGee as he stepped off. "Need to know, Tim."

"Yes Boss," he replied as the doors shut between them.

* * *

Gibbs entered the lab bearing Caf-pow. "Hey Abs."

She whirled around. "Gibbs, but I don't have anything. You never come down before I have something and I definitely do not have anything." She exclaimed and then noticed what he was carrying. "Oh, Caf-pow for me?"

"Well, it isn't for me, Abby." He smiled as he handed the quart of pure caffeine over.

She took it and eyed him suspiciously. "Gibbs?"

"Can't I just buy a Caf-pow for my favorite girl for no reason?"

"But there's always a reason. I mean the guys are working hard - " She gestured to the machines whirling and churning in the lab, "but nothing yet and - hey I'm you favorite," she smiled as his last statement penetrated.

Gibbs laughed as he always did as he listened to Abby ramble. "Abs…" he tried interrupting.

"Still, I don't remember you ever just bringing Caf-pow. You know what they say about Greeks bearing gifts but then you're not Greek but you must want to know something and it must be important or you wouldn't have brought the-"

"Abs!" Gibbs said finally forcing her into silence.

"Sorry Gibbs," she said and waited for him to continue.

"Alright, you got me, there is a reason." His gut told him something was wrong with Richie and if it was right – like it usually was – he didn't want Abby hanging out with the guy until he knew for sure. "You know Ducky's nephew?"

"Who Richie? Sure, he's working in the IT department." She tried to sound light-hearted but Gibbs could sense she wasn't happy that he'd asked the question. "You having problems with your computer because I'm sure McGee or I could help if -"

"No, Abby, its no about my computer." Gibbs was just about to warn her away from Richie when the person of interest bounded into the lab.

"Hey Abby, ready for happy hour?" Richie stopped short when he notice Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs," he said with a nod. "Is your computer working okay since I added those upgrades?"

"It's fine," the senior agent snapped.

Richie looked from Abby to the unhappy frown on Gibbs face.

"Oh sorry, guess I'm interrupting." He started to back out of the lab when Abby stopped him.

"No, its okay, Richie," Abby said and turned to Gibbs. "Can we talk about this later? Tony and McGee will be waiting."

Gibbs was reluctant to let Abby go but he could tell that she really didn't want to talk about Richie. As she waited for his response, Gibbs noticed a quick series of silent expressions pass between the two. His gut did a back flip with the unsettling realization that whatever secrets Richie was keeping, Abby was in his confidence and they didn't want him to know. Score one for the gut he thought sourly. This mystery was growing and he was never happy when that happened

"Sure, go ahead. We'll talk later," Gibbs said as he walked past Richie with barely a nod of acknowledgment.

As the elevator doors slid shut, Gibbs hoped McGee could find something that would prove him wrong because he really didn't want to acknowledge the alternative; that both Ducky and Abby were keeping secrets and potentially dangerous ones at that. 

* * *

Abby and Richie were subdued as they drove to meet Tony and McGee for happy hour. Gibbs' 'almost' questioning of Abby had her unnerved.

"I'm not good at lying to Gibbs, Richie," she said plaintively. "He'll know and then he'll look at me with the interrogation eyes and I'll cave. I know I will."

Richie reached over to clasp her hand. "I have faith, Abby, that you can keep my secret."

"But what if I can't?" she asked, flicking her eyes from the road to glance at her passenger. "Gibbs won't stop until he's satisfied he's learned the truth."

"Just tell him to talk to me. I'm sure I can come up with something that will satisfy his curiosity," he replied. "In the meantime, let's enjoy happy hour. If you're upset Tim will know and –"

"And he'll be curious and I don't want to lie to Tim."

"Yeah," Richie agreed as they fell into a silence for the rest of the drive. Richie wasn't sure which he found more unnerving a quiet sullen Abby or the fact that Gibbs' seemed very close to finding out that his identity as Richie Blaine was a false one.

Abby sighed as she pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot.

"What, Abs?" Richie was concerned. He'd never seen Abby look so sad.

"I just hate lying to my friends. Guess I didn't think that part through when I begged to be part of the Watchers."

"You're not lying so much as protecting them."

"That's true," she said and seemed to draw strength from that idea. "Let's go. I really need a drink or five."

"Me too," Richie laughed as they exited the car and headed into the bar. 

* * *

"About time you two got here," Tony chided as Abby and Richie joined him and Tim at their table.

"Ran into Gibbs," Richie said.

Tony chuckled. "He glare at you?"

"Yeah, seems to be about the only expression he has for me these days," Richie replied. "Wish I knew why he dislikes me so much." Richie figured it was best to keep up the appearance of the beleaguered newbie when it came to Gibbs

"I don't know," Tony said in a sing song voice as he turned to Tim. "McGee, why do you think Gibbs doesn't like Richie?"

"Wha…Uh," Tim sputtered. "How should I know?" He finished with a glare at Tony commanding him to drop it.

"See, Gibbs has that affect on McGee even when he's not here, Rich."

"So he does. But you're not exactly immune either, Tony." Richie reminded him which elicited a snicker from McGee.

"It's our free time, can we not talk about Gibbs," Abby interrupted.

"I'm all for that," Richie said. He knew that Tim was looking into his background and Richie felt bad trying to play dumb about the whole thing.

"Hey Rich, you'll never guess what I saw on TV last night."

"Watching too much porn again?" Tim suggested.

"Shut up, probie," Tony snapped and returned to address Richie. "It was this show called 'Worlds Worst Motorcycle Crashes'."

"Oh, it was high quality Television," Tim said snidely.

"Better then spending all night on line, Elflord."

As Tony and McGee snipped at each other, neither noticed the color drain from Richie face. He leaned over to Abby and whispered, "This is not good."

_Why?_ she mouthed back. Richie waited as understanding dawned. She'd read his chronicles; she knew about France. "You're right this is bad," Abby whispered back.

"Anyway," Tony drawled to bring their attention back to him. "There was this crash in France where this guy died and you'll never guess why it was so weird."

Richie took a sip of the beer that had been delivered trying to seem disinterested. Abby sat silently waiting for Tony to share what she already knew was coming.

"I'll bite," Tim replied. "What was so interesting about a tragic motorcycle crash in France?"

"The dead guy looked just like our boy Richie here." Tony said smugly. "Guys name was Richie Ryan. Relative of yours?"

"Nope," Richie replied with no trace of the turmoil going on inside. "No dead relatives in France." Richie knew that as friendly as they were becoming, Tony's loyalty was to Gibbs first. If his boss had expressed concerns about Richie that meant that Tony was developing concerns too.

Tony bit his lip. "Uh huh. Well the resemblance was uncanny."

Richie met Tony's scrutiny as he maintained a neutral expression. "What can I tell you? Never heard of him and I've never been to France." It wasn't exactly a lie; he'd never been to France as Richie Blaine.

"You know Tony," Abby said. "They say everyone's got a double somewhere. Maybe that was Richie's."

"Well if it hadn't happened almost fifteen years ago I'd swear it was you, Rich," Tony pushed as he leaned forward to stare at his friend.

"What are you suggesting, Tony?" Abby asked.

Tony shrugged. "Don't know. It was just freaky, is all. It really could have been you."

"Guess I'm looking pretty good for a dead 35 year-old." Richie laughed. He decided he might as well voice what they were all thinking.

"Hell of a plastic surgeon you had," Tony quipped.

"Well, when you're on the run from mobsters it pays to look your best." Richie took up the thread of the joke but didn't miss the way Tim was staring at him. Richie knew McGee would be tracking down a copy of that show from the internet and delivering it to Gibbs in the morning. The best he could do was plant the seed of improbability with McGee and hope he passed it on to Gibbs.

"Ooh did you escape to Argentina? Isn't that where everyone goes for new identities?" Abby suggested as she joined in trying to show how silly it all was.

The joking continued as the scenario of Richie's supposed life on the run became a bad spy adventure. Richie contributed to the tall tale but was anxious to get out of the bar.

He just wanted to bang his head against the table until oblivion overtook him. He could see no way out. Abby threw a quick smile his way and under the table she squeezed his hand.

Richie sent her back a halfhearted grin. She was so optimistic that Tony and McGee would forget the whole thing by morning but he knew better.

Tim would tell Gibbs, Richie was sure of that. He couldn't risk a confrontation with the man. Abby was right about one thing, the senior agent was very hard to lie to and Richie wasn't about to try to beat the master. If Gibbs found out about his Immortality then Ducky and Abby would be at risk and as a government agent, Gibbs would not be under any obligation to keep Richie's true nature a secret.

He needed to get back to Ducky's, pack and disappear. He'd call Abby later and explain. Richie knew she'd never leave NCIS, so she wouldn't be his Watcher any more. And that thought pained him more than anything.

Plus, going back to Seacouver wasn't going to be a picnic, especially when Mac heard why he'd had to leave. He'd screwed up; Richie didn't need Mac to tell him that but he would. Stupid crash was destined to haunt him for the foreseeable future.

_This just sucks,_ Richie thought as he downed his beer and signaled the waitress for another.


	16. The Blaine Ultimatium

**Title**: The Blaine Ultimatum  
**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan NCIS: Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Ducky  
**Summary**: Gibbs is closing in on the truth. Richie decides he has no choice but to leave Abby and Ducky behind.

* * *

** The Blaine Ultimatum**

Gibbs stared at the computer screen. The video was paused on the picture of a dead man. Richie Ryan had died almost fifteen years ago in France but Gibbs knew without a doubt that the person captured in the image on the screen was alive and well and working at NCIS. The similarity in their appearance was more than a coincidence. Since plastic surgery these days was an amazing thing, he wondered why the guy hadn't done more to change his overall look. Maybe he'd thought simply coming across as too young to be Ryan might have been enough to confuse most people. Gibbs was not most people.

"Who else knows about this?" Gibbs asked McGee.

They were sitting in McGee's apartment. The junior agent had called and insisted that what he'd found couldn't wait until the next day.

"Tony mentioned it during happy hour with Abby and Richie." McGee went on to explain the conversation that had dominated the foursome's gathering. "I thought you'd want to know as soon as possible."

Gibbs shook his head; this was not good. "So Blaine knows we're on to him?"

"If Tony told him about our investigation, then yes he is," McGee admitted. "He did seem nervous but then I don't know him that well."

"And Abby?"

"Well, she was awfully quite and - " he paused.

"And what McGee?" Gibbs demanded.

McGee huffed out a sigh. "She was sad, Boss. I didn't think much of it at the time because I was focused on Richie."

"Damn it, McGee!" Gibbs didn't like the connections he was seeing. Abby knew something. Was Blaine some kind of enemy agent trying to infiltrate NCIS and if so, what did he have on Abby and Ducky that made them willing participants in his agenda?

The junior agent didn't say anything; just had that wounded puppy dog look on his face.

"Find me a connection between Blaine and Ryan," Gibbs snapped before storming out of the apartment with McGee's, "Sure thing, Boss", cut off as the door slammed shut behind him.

Earlier today Gibbs had tried to confront Abby in her lab about her relationship with Blaine. Instead of giving him her full attention, Abby had run away to happy hour at the first opportunity. Gibbs suspected it was because Abby was afraid she'd have to lie to him.

Gibbs thought about the almost nonexistent amount of evidence he'd collected. A fifteen year old video whose discovery made Abby upset. Evasive answers from Ducky about a nephew whose exact familial connection to Dr. Mallard was yet to be determined. Gibbs didn't know many teenagers, well he didn't know any teenagers, but he was sure Richie Blaine didn't act like a nineteen-year-old kid away from home for the first time.

None of it seemed all that incriminating but if that were the case why was his gut in overdrive.

If Blaine was as good as Gibbs suspected it might take awhile to break through the false cover. He had faith that given enough time McGee would get the job done, but he realized he couldn't wait that long.

No more skulking around doing research, hoping the computer would tell him what he wanted to know. Richie knew they'd discovered the video. That, and knowledge of Gibbs' inquiries, would send him packing. The only question was, who did he confront? If a potential terrorist did have something on Abby then talking to her might put her in imminent danger.

Ducky had brought the guy into NCIS and was vouching for his identity. It was time to talk to his old friend. If Blaine was at the Mallard house now, that was just as well. Gibbs' wanted answers and he wanted them now.

* * *

"Richie, you don't have to go," Abby said as she watched him gather up his meager possessions and stuff them into a duffle. They'd just returned from the bar and had explained the disastrous happy hour gathering to Ducky.

Abby and Dr. Mallard had insisted that they could manage the situation with Agent Gibbs but Richie saw only one solution. Leave town. He could see no other way to protect his secret and protect his friends from the investigation that was sure to follow once the truth about his alias was uncovered. Richie had headed upstairs to pack, with both his Watchers following, trying their best to dissuade him from leaving.

"Abigail is right," Ducky agreed. "I've known Jethro a long time. Right now, he suspects that something odd is going on and that I am complicit somehow. But if you leave now, it will only confirm his suspicions and we'll be left trying to explain the impossible. Give me a chance to point him in another direction. I'm sure I can get him to drop the whole thing with a few heartfelt conversations and a charming story I know about a similar situation about mistaken identity that happened to me in boarding school."

Chuckling, Richie stopped packing to look at his friends. "Boarding school, Ducky?"

"I assure you it is an applicable comparison."

Richie shook his head. "I know you have mad powers of persuasion but I won't take that chance. Ultimately, you guys are government agents. Gibbs could call your loyalty into question and if my Immortality were revealed - well – I can't risk that he wouldn't just turn me over to a government lab or something."

"Gibbs would never do that!" Abby snapped as she stepped toward Richie. "He would do the right thing."

He moved to clasp Abby's hand. "And what's the right thing? Keeping my secret?" Richie shook his head. "I don't think Gibbs would see it that way. If nothing else, I'm using an alias to work at a government agency. The last time I checked that was a crime."

"True, that is quite illegal," Ducky said. "I doubt the deception over your identity is something Jethro could easily overlook."

"You and Abby would be accomplices in that too," Richie reminded him. "I'm not about to risk your careers and your freedom just so I can finish college and play IT tech."

"Richard," Ducky pleaded.

"No, Ducky," he interrupted. "Fifteen years ago I made a stupid mistake. But it was my mistake and only I should have to live with the consequences. Tell Gibbs I was a bad guy; that I blackmailed you into helping me. I don't care. Say what ever you have to say to protect your careers once I'm gone."

"But – "Abby started and bit her lip. "I don't think I could do that. You're not a bad guy and I won't sacrifice you to save myself."

"You have to Abs. It's the only way to convince Gibbs that you guys did nothing wrong."

"But we didn't do anything wrong!"

"Exactly. So it won't actually be lying, will it?"

Confusion crossed Abby's face.

"I think, my dear," Ducky interjected. "Richard has effectively cut off any protests we may have had with his circuitous logic."

"Thanks, I think," Richie said with a halfhearted smile. "Now I think it's time to say goodbye."

Abby was fidgeting with energy. He could tell she wanted to say something else to stop him. Finally, she hung her head, giving in to the inevitable and said, "I'll miss you," before embracing him in a hug,

"Me too, Abs," he replied as he hung onto his friend. "Leaving is the right thing to do." He really didn't want to go. He was just starting to make a life away from Duncan and Seacouver. Richie wasn't looking forward to crawling back. It was like admitting he couldn't make it without Mac to help him. Unfortunately in this instance, he saw no other alternative. He needed to go back and regroup.

Abby nodded furiously against his shoulder before pulling out of the hug. The tears were pooling in her eyes. "Feel like I failed you. Some Watcher I am."

Richie smiled as he reached to wipe an escaped tear from her cheek. "You are a great Watcher, Abby. Joe told me your reports are among the most entertaining he's read in a long time. Which is amazing because I figure my life is pretty boring."

"Not the way I see it," she insisted. Abby sniffled loudly as she fought to get her emotions under control.

"Well I appreciated it. In the meantime, I still have you at my back." She sent a questioning look at him. "Tattoo, remember?" he explained.

This elicited a beaming smile from the Goth and another hug. "Oh Richie, I'm just so sorry it had to be like this. I wish we could just tell Gibbs and then he'd understand and everything could go back the way it was."

Richie extricated himself from her embrace. "It's a nice dream, Abs, but this is just the way my life tends to go." He smiled ruefully and turned to Ducky. "Uncle, it's been a pleasure," and held out his hand.

Ignoring the outstretched hand, Ducky pulled the younger man into a fierce embrace. "Be sure to take care of your self and if you are ever back in DC – "

Richie nodded as he stepped back from the shorter man. "First place I stop."

"Ow," Richie laughed as he felt Abby punch him. "Okay, second place I stop."

Abby pointed a finger at him. "And don't you forget it."

"Never, Abs."

Richie tossed the last few items into his duffle, zipped the bag and followed his Watchers down the steps.

In the foyer, he knelt down to say goodbye to his favorite furry member of the Mallard household. "Goodbye Countessa," he said as he gave her a final scratch under the chin. The corgi whined as if she understood that Richie was leaving for good. "Be a good girl."

Richie stood and sighed. "I guess this is it."

Abby threw herself at him for one more hug. "Take care of yourself," she said as she stepped back.

He nodded silently and, with a final smile for Ducky, he headed out the door. Richie could feel their eyes on him as he walked to his motorcycle. This wasn't the first time his Immortality had forced him to leave town in a hurry but it was the first time that he regretted moving on this much.

He placed the duffel on the bike and began tying it down.

"Going somewhere, Blaine?"

A voice cut through the darkness, causing Richie to jump and sending his half-secured bag tumbling to the ground. "Agent Gibbs!" Richie exclaimed as he found the source of the voice. "I was just – uhm well –" he stuttered, searching for an explanation.

Gibbs stepped calmly out of the shadows and approached Richie. Without a word he bent down and retrieved the fallen duffel, handing it to the startled Immortal.

Richie took the bag and set it back on the bike. "Thanks. I'm going for a ride. I mean - that is – I was –" _Crap_ thought Richie. He hadn't expected to ever see the man again and hadn't prepared a cover story. Words failed him as Gibbs' famous glare had its desired effect.

Hands on his hips, Richie shifted uncomfortably under that gaze. He looked past Gibbs to see Abby and Ducky still standing in the doorway of the Mallard home; the light from the foyer casting them in shadows, their faces unreadable.

Richie continued to stumble toward a reason for his late night departure. "There's a perfectly logical explanation, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs' mouth was set in a tight line as he held up a hand to stop Richie's rambling. "Save it, Blaine." The older man turned and headed toward the house. When Richie didn't move, Gibbs called over his shoulder. "Inside, now!"

Richie thought briefly about making a break for it on his bike but he couldn't leave Abby and Ducky to face Gibbs. His gait heavy with apprehension, Richie moved to follow the senior agent. He'd prefer a firing squad at this point to facing an inquisition from Special Agent Gibbs. At least he knew he'd recover from a bullet wound.


	17. The Gibbs Supremacy

**Title**: The Gibbs Supremacy  
**Author**: **strangevisitor7**

**Characters**: HL: Richie Ryan NCIS: Gibbs, Abby, Ducky  
**Summary**: Gibbs wants the truth and he wants it now.

A/N: This is a sequel to The Blaine Identity and The Blaine Ultimatum

* * *

**The Gibbs Supremacy **

As Gibbs approached the door of the Mallard house, he saw Abby and Ducky share a worried look. He'd caught Blaine in the midst of trying to leave town as Gibbs suspected he would. His gut had been right again.

"Jethro, to what do I owe this late night visit," Ducky said, the cheer in his voice sounding false.

Gibbs paused in front of his two co-workers as he sent Ducky a _Why do you think I'm here_ look.

Ducky appeared appropriately chastised. "Yes of course," he sighed and gestured for Gibbs to enter.

The senior agent waited for Richie to enter first, making sure the object of this late night visit didn't take the opportunity to bolt.

Silently, Ducky led them into the parlor. Gibbs sat on the sofa nearest the door, his mood turning blacker as the other three chose to sit in the one across from him; a solid wall of support in the face of his suspicion.

Gibbs didn't get it. He couldn't believe that two trusted members of his team were harboring some kind of criminal. Instead of being relieved that Gibbs had rescued them from what ever illegal plans Blaine had dragged them into, Abby and Ducky instead seemed very distressed that Richie had not gotten away. Abby was uncommonly quiet and Gibbs found this most disturbing of all.

Gibbs glared at his old friend. "Who is he Ducky? Because I know he's not your nephew." The truth was he wasn't sure about the relationship between Richie and Ducky. McGee hadn't been able to find anything wrong with the documents that declared Blaine to be a member of the Mallard clan. Gibbs just figured Tim needed more time. Besides, he'd bluffed the truth out of suspects with less. His mind rebelled at the idea that Ducky and Abby were suspects.

It was Blaine who spoke breaking Gibbs from his inner turmoil.

"Agent Gibbs, I don't know why you think I'm someone I'm not."

Gibbs swung his glare to the younger man. "Do I look stupid to you?" he snarled.

"Jethro, Richard is my nephew."

Reaching into his pocket, Gibbs pulled out the flash drive that McGee had given to him and held it up. "Then explain how someone who supposedly died fifteen years ago in France is sitting on your couch."

Gibbs watched the color drain from the three faces in front of him. It was all the confirmation he needed that he was onto something.

"It's not me," Riche said. The fire had gone out of his protest with the revelation that Gibbs had seen the video.

"I'm betting it is," Gibbs pushed. "Your plastic surgeon was good. He kept you looking young but you still have the face of a dead man."

"It's a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences." Gibbs glared at him and was pleased to see Blaine finally squirming under his scrutiny. Before he could continue his inquisition, another voice captured their attention.

"Donald, are you having a party?" Mrs. Mallard asked. She had wandered into the room in her nightgown and robe, looking as if she'd just woken up.

Ducky was on his feet in an instant. "It nothing, Mother," he said soothingly. "Just some friends from work." He tried to guide her out of the room but she pulled away from him when she spotted Gibbs.

"Oh," she said smiling at him. "You're that nice police officer."

Gibbs returned her smile. "Yes ma'am."

"Have you come to arrest the Irishman?" she asked.

"Mother, that's quite enough. Agent Gibbs isn't here on business." Ducky was flustered and unable to move his mother out of the room.

"Irishman?" Gibbs asked, encouraging the old woman to continue.

She leaned over to look him in the eye and then flicked her gaze at Richie. "He's been stealing liquor from the cabinet. I know he's picked the lock," she whispered in his ear.

"Who? Do you mean Mr. Ryan?" Gibbs asked, pointing at Blaine, hoping Mrs. Mallard would tell him what the three seated across from him would not.

He watched as Richie dropped his head into his hands and shook his head. Abby looked like she was on the verge of tears and Ducky just kept tugging at his mother trying to prod her into leaving.

Mrs. Mallard nodded. "You'll take care of him?" Gibbs assured her that he would. "Good!" She then turned and exited the room having no idea of the chaos she was leaving behind.

Gibbs was right Ryan and Blaine _were_ the same guy. But he felt no sense of triumph as he registered the defeated looks on their faces. "Now you three want to tell me what's really going on?"

"Really Jethro, it's nothing nefarious just a case of mistaken identity," Ducky said as he sat back down between Abby and Richie. "You know how addled mother can be when she's just woken up."

"Not buying it, Ducky," Gibbs said, his voice ice cold.

"You aren't gonna like it, Gibbs," Abby assured him.

"I already don't like it," he snapped.

"This has nothing to do with Ducky and Abby. They don't know anything about the alias," Richie lied.

"Richie don't say that. Ducky and I know exactly what we did and why," Abby said.

"Quiet Abby. Don't say anything," Richie pleaded with her. He turned back to Gibbs. "I shouldn't have taken the job. I'll leave town tonight and you'll never see me again. I swear I'm not a spy or anything like that. Don't make Ducky and Abby pay for my mistake."

Gibbs snorted his disbelief at the kid's lame attempt to evade the entire situation. Richie's confession about the alias was all he needed to haul the guy in on suspicion of espionage but he wanted the rest of the story. He needed to know how Abby and Ducky fit in. "Not going to happen, Blaine. Or do you prefer Ryan?"

Richie sighed. "Ryan, actually."

"So before I arrest you for a laundry list of infractions that begin with using a false identity to gain access to a government facility, why don't you convince me why I shouldn't shoot you right now and save the taxpayers a lot of money?"

Richie started laughing. Gibbs was getting angrier by the minute. He didn't think he'd said anything funny. It was infuriating that the kid rarely responded like he expected him too.

"You know, shooting me may be the best solution."

"Don't say that Richie." Abby glared at Gibbs. "You are not gonna shoot him!"

Gibbs shrugged off Abby's concern and returned to his questioning of Ryan. "Who do you work for?"

"I don't work for anyone," he said. "I'm a simple IT tech who needed a job to support my college education."

"You're lying." Gibbs snapped.

"No, I'm not," Richie said quietly. "So shoot me or arrest me but I'm not confessing to anything but making a stupid error in judgment."

"Richard, it was my decision to get you the job at NCIS," Ducky said. "This is all my fault."

Gibbs stared at his friend in shock; Ducky had willingly brought this imposter into their midst. "Why, Duck?"

"He needed a job and a place to live. When an old friend asked me to look after the boy, I was happy to say yes."

Now Gibbs was confused. "Let me get this straight. Ryan is not your nephew." When Ducky nodded his confirmation, he continued. "You knew the Blaine identity was an alias." Ducky nodded again. Gibbs sighed. "Ducky, I don't think I can protect you from the fallout."

"I don't expect you to, Jethro."

The situation was making no sense and Gibbs hoped he wasn't going to have to put his oldest friend in federal lock-up before the night was over. "You knowingly brought someone into a government agency that could be considered a threat to national security?"

"He's not a threat to anyone," Abby interjected. "He just needed a job."

Gibbs didn't want to think about Abby's role in all of this. She had a history of falling for psychos. He held out hope that Ryan was simply another in her long list of bad relationship choices. He didn't think he could bear the thought that both she and Ducky had betrayed his trust. "You knew all this too. Why didn't you tell me?"

Abby cast her eyes downward unwilling to meet he gaze as she answered. "You wouldn't have understood."

"Damn right I don't understand." He'd had enough. Gibbs anger was like a tightly coiled snake ready to strike. He'd been patient enough. He stood and yanked Ryan to his feet. "I'm arresting you. You've admitted to gaining access to a government facility using a false identity. We can finish this at NCIS."

Gibbs turned the man around and began applying handcuffs to Richie's wrists. The kid didn't fight him but Abby and Ducky jumped to their feet protesting Gibbs' actions.

"Don't do this Gibbs!" Abby pleaded.

"Jethro, you must let the boy go," Ducky begged at the same time.

The senior agent ignored them and shoved the now manacled Ryan toward the door. He pointed a finger at his two coworkers as he moved past them indicating they should come too.

"Stop!" Ducky yelled. Gibbs turned to face him but didn't let go of Richie. "Uncuff him Jethro. I will tell you everything."

"Ducky, I can handle this." Richie protested as he shifted his eyes to Gibbs. "Just take me in. I'm guilty. Don't listen to them."

"Guilty of what?" Gibbs asked, wondering if the kid was finally going to confess.

Richie hung his head. "What ever you think I did, I did it."

Gibbs didn't understand it. The kid was still trying to protect Abby and Ducky from whatever secret he was hiding. That was definitely not the behavior he expected of a blackmailing criminal mastermind.

"Richard, don't be ridiculous. You can not simply confess to generic guilt to keep us out of this," Ducky said, glaring at his ward. "You might end up in federal prison or worse if we don't tell the whole truth." The medical examiner shifted his gaze to the senior agent. "I trust that Jethro will do the right thing."

Gibbs stared down at the shorter man. "Won't let him go, if that's what you're thinking."

Ducky smiled sagely and settled himself back on the couch. "I believe that you will."

He hesitated before removing the handcuffs and pushing Richie back to the sofa. Gibbs smiled to himself, Ducky had cracked sooner than he'd expected and was a bit relieved he wasn't going to have to drag his friend to NCIS in chains.

The kid was glaring at Ducky, unhappy that he'd decided to share. Ducky patted the younger man's knee. The look that passed between them indicated that the older man would not be denied. Richie sighed and slumped down, defeat written all over his face.

Gibbs met Ryan's eyes, expecting to see a haughty, angry criminal brought low. Instead he saw a person who was deeply sorry that it had come to this. While the dichotomy was a surprise, Gibbs reminded himself that Ryan couldn't be trusted.

Settling onto the opposite sofa, Gibbs spread his hands wide waiting for Ducky to share his story.

"When I was a young man I had a great interest in history," Ducky began. "I found several opportunities to share my enthusiasm with other like minded individuals. It was in the course of my interaction with several members of one group that I first –"

Gibbs held up a hand to stop the older man's recitation. He recognized that Ducky was settling in for the long version of the tale and he really didn't have the patience for all the details. "Can we skip ahead to when you met Ryan and why you lied for him?"

Ducky scowled at him. "I assure you this information is relevant to how I came in contact with Richard."

"Don't have all night. So speed it up," Gibbs growled. He didn't like being so curt with Ducky but sometimes the man had to be dragged to the point.

"Richie's Immortal," Abby blurted out.

Three sets of eyes turned to stare at her.

She shrugged. "What? It's not like that wasn't going to be the big reveal at the end of the story," she insisted as she glared back at each of them in turn.

"You can't be serious, Abs?" Gibbs asked. "Immortal? That's just –" He found himself unable to finish the thought as he registered the sincerity in Abby's face. She believed this ridiculous explanation.

"Crazy?" She chuckled. "Not when you've seen Richie heal from a wound that should have killed him."

Gibbs looked at Ryan who shrugged and sent him an apologetic smile. "It's the truth," Richie confirmed. "Now that you know, there's no going back."

Gibbs glared at the younger man. "If I shoot you in the heart - what – you're just going shrug it off and keep going?"

"Well not exactly," he replied. "It'll hurt and I will die. I'll just come back."

Gibbs was angry. He was being played and he didn't like it. Ryan had obviously conned Ducky and Abby into believing this cockamamie story but he wasn't so easily fooled. If the kid thought he wouldn't call his bluff he was mistaken.

"Let's just see how this works then." Gibbs stood, drew his gun and pointed it at Ryan's chest. The kid didn't even flinch; in fact he nodded, giving Gibbs tacit permission to fire.

"Don't!" Abby shouted. She tried to get to Gibbs but Ducky put a hand on her, keeping her in her seat.

"It's the only way," he said to her. Ducky turned to Gibbs. "Go ahead, Jethro. Mind you, I'm going to ask that you have the sofa cleaned after."

Richie chuckled. "How about you step back agent Gibbs? I'll stand up and we'll make less of a mess that way."

Gibbs did step back, not because he cared if he ruined Ducky's couch but because he couldn't believe they were encouraging him do this. Richie stood, squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. "I'm ready. And could you put it through the heart. It's not as painful if death is instantaneous."

Gibbs held his weapon ready. "You seriously want me to shoot you."

Richie cracked one eye open. "Yeah and could you hurry up. It always hurts like a son of a bitch and I'm kind of losing my nerve here."

"It's okay, Gibbs" Abby said. It seemed she'd made peace with the idea of shooting Ryan. "They're right. It's the only way you'll believe the rest of the story."

There was no way he was going to risk killing the guy. Ryan was obviously playing some weird suicide game to protect his employers; forcing him to kill his only lead. Gibbs had no intention of being that stupid. Instead he would simply wound the guy. There'd be paper work about shooting an unarmed suspect but he could deal with that fallout later. Proving the guy to be a liar should show Ducky and Abby that this whole thing was a hoax and ensure their cooperation for the rest of the investigation.

He took aim and began to squeeze the trigger. He still expected one of them to call a halt to his action ending this bizarre game of chicken but no one did. Abby and Ducky were silently encouraging him to do it and Ryan had closed his eyes again in anticipation of the pain.

Gibbs silently sighed. It seemed he was either going to have to follow through or back down and he wasn't about to back down. His anger at the betrayal by his friends got the best of him. Aiming at the kid's leg, he pulled the trigger. A small sense of panic hit him as Richie collapsed back onto the coach grabbing his wounded thigh. The enormity of shooting an unarmed man slammed into him.

"What the hell? In the heart! Not the leg, damn it." Richie shouted through clenched teeth.

Abby stood and smacked Gibbs. "How could you do that?"

"You told me too, Abs." Gibbs replied. He'd called the kid's bluff but he didn't feel good about it. They should have been a better way to prove Ryan was lying. The myriad of paperwork this would entail was not going to be pleasant. Still, he'd aimed carefully and it was just a flesh wound which shouldn't require too many stitches. "I thought you said he couldn't get hurt."

"He's Immortal, not bullet proof!" She snapped as she dropped next to Richie to help stop the bleeding. "We said in the heart! That hurts way less than what you just did."

Ducky said nothing just moved to kneel in front of Richie, offering words of comfort.

Gibbs shook his head wondering why they'd let him shoot Ryan and why seeing that the guy was bleeding, they still insisted on believing him. "I'll call an ambulance. You shouldn't have called my bluff, kid." Gibbs admonished as he reached for his phone.

"That won't be necessary," Ducky said looking up at him. "Richie will be fine."

Gibbs waited for the joke to be over but Ducky just tilted his head to indicate that Gibbs should watch Richie, who still appeared to be in a lot of pain.

Abby reached down and with Ducky's help she ripped open Richie's pant leg to reveal the wound. Gibbs watched in fascination as blue sparks covered the damaged area and appeared to be repairing the bullet hole. A few silence-filled minutes later, the wound was fully healed. If it hadn't been for the bloody tear in Richie's jeans, he wouldn't have believed he'd actually hit the kid with his shot.

Speechless Gibbs flopped back on the couch. The kid could heal and if he could heal than the rest must be true too. Richie Ryan was Immortal. The anger that had been raging all night flowed away, replaced by the confusion of what the belief in that simple statement could mean.

He looked up to three sets of eyes waiting for his reaction. Gibbs swallowed hard before breaking the silence. "So - Immortal?" Gibbs waited.

The three nodded in unison, but no one spoke allowing Gibbs to come to grips with what he'd seen.

"You too, Abby?" he asked wondering if that was why she'd protected the man.

She laughed. "No Gibbs. I'm just his Watcher and so is Ducky."

Confusion crossed his face, encouraging Abby to continue.

Before she could, Richie interrupted. "If it's okay with you Agent Gibbs, I'm going to get cleaned up and changed. I've heard the Immortal 101 speech enough times and I think Ducky and Abby can handle the explanations without me." He stood and waited for Gibbs to protest.

His head was still spinning as he waved Richie away. He wasn't worried about the kid taking off any more. The secret had been revealed and it was in Ryan's best interest to ride out the storm.

"I'll check on Mrs. Mallard too," Richie said "Make sure the shot didn't scare her."

"Thank you, my boy," Ducky replied.

Once Richie had reclaimed his duffle and exited the room, Gibbs turned to his co-workers. He looked at Ducky, sending him a crooked smile. "You were a young man with an interest in history –" Gibbs prompted.

Ducky returned the smile and picked up the story as if he hadn't been interrupted.

Gibbs settled in for the unabridged version. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with Ryan but for now he was content to listen to the story and hope his course of action became clear.


	18. A Lie Well Told by idontlikegravy

**Title**: A Lie Well Told  
**Author**: This chapter by **Idontlikegravy**:

**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: Ducky, Abby, Richie, Methos and Gibbs  
**Summary**: The is the sequel to Chapter 12 'Renewed Acquaintances'. Methos had escaped from the NCIS morgue but not from Gibbs' radar. These events take place before Chapter 15 'The Blaine Identity'.

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A Lie Well Told**

Methos slouched as best as he was able to in the hard metal chair, trying to project the appropriate level of sadness and distress at being called in to discuss the loss of his 'twin'. Dr. Mallard had cautioned him that Gibbs was tough to fool, but Methos had dismissed the warning. Playing the part of grieving brother didn't require much effort, and in reality, he was scrutinizing the security camera and recording devices and listening intently to the conversation outside the door.

At least two agents were stood in the corridor, one who Richie had called Tony, and another who Methos suspected was the infamous Agent Gibbs

"I just don't like it, DiNozzo. Something is off kilter about this whole cock-a-mamie scenario. His twin brother?!" said the voice Methos assumed to be Gibbs.

"I know, boss. But the resemblance is uncanny. What other explanation is there? Unless the corpse just got up and walked out of autopsy," DiNozzo replied with a half-hearted chuckle. Gibbs grunted in reply and opened the door.

Methos could tell instantly that the man was former military. It was obvious from the way he walked, and the jarhead haircut could only belong to a US Marine. Inwardly Methos smiled, he knew just how to play this now. He sat up in his chair and adopted a concerned look.

Gibbs sat down opposite Methos and slapped a folder on the table in front of him. The two sat regarding each other for a moment before Gibbs spoke.

"So, Doctor Clifford…"

"Yes, Agent… Gibbs is it?"

Methos then sat quietly regarding Gibbs, who clearly wanted him to say something more, but he waited for the agent to make the next move. The silence stretched into minutes. Clearly, Gibbs was good at the waiting game, but Methos was a master. Eventually Gibbs patience wore thin.

"So, my M.E. tells me that it was your brother, Daniel, that was found this morning," Gibbs said. Methos could feel the skepticism pouring off Gibbs and looked suitably distressed, knowing that Gibbs was gauging his reaction. "Any idea how such a snafu could happen?"

"I can only assume that immigration got us muddled when we entered the country. They must have put my prints on my brother's visa. We are identical. I mean were," Doctor Clifford said with a shake of his head.

Methos smiled inwardly as he said that. It was a nice touch; he knew that referring to a loved one in the past tense too soon was considered a sign of guilt by law enforcement.

"And nobody picked up on this sooner? I'm glad this security issue has come to our attention, Doctor," Gibbs commented. Methos could hear a note of derision in his voice; clearly Gibbs didn't believe what he was being told.

"Look, I'm sorry for any confusion and any unnecessary paperwork this mistaken identity has caused you. But the sad fact of the matter is that Daniel took his own life, and it wasn't unexpected. I failed to protect my own twin, Agent Gibbs."

"You're absolutely certain of that?" Gibbs asked.

Methos hung his head and delivered his response to his shoes.

"I've never been more certain of anything," he said quietly.

"Why the hurry to remove the body from the morgue?"

Methos sighed inwardly. Gibbs was certainly persistent. Methos looked up, straight into the agent's eyes.

"There was no hurry, Agent Gibbs. Doctor Mallard said he had concluded the autopsy and was happy to release my brother's remains. If you've no more questions, I'd be grateful if you would let me go so I can finalize the necessary arrangements to have him sent home."

Gibbs glowered at Methos, but no more questions were forthcoming. Methos silently crowed in triumph as he recognized the defeated tilt to Gibbs head. He would be free momentarily. Gibbs stood, but before exiting the room he sent a final word of caution toward him.

"Just don't leave town, Doctor Clifford," he said.

The cliché amused Methos, but the threat it implied certainly did not. Gibbs was clearly unsatisfied with the story Methos had given and wanted to pursue things further. Luckily for Methos, the case was closed and so there was nothing Gibbs could do about it.

Methos had never known a mortal to be so formidable, he was impressed. After five thousand years, it took a lot to make him sweat. Still, he was mentally patting himself on the back for what he felt was an Oscar-worthy performance of the grieving brother. Not too grief stricken, but not too cavalier either. He just hoped this was going to be an end to the matter.


	19. A Tangled Web by idontlikegravy

**Title**: **A Tangled Web**  
**Author**: This chapter by **Idontlikegravy**:

**Fandom**: HL & NCIS; Watcher!Abby 'Verse  
**Characters**: Methos and Gibbs  
**Summary**: After the events in Chapter 17 "The Gibbs Supremacy" , Agent Gibbs has learned the truth about Immortality. He confronts Methos with his new found knowledge

**

* * *

**

**A Tangled Web**

Methos groaned inwardly as he saw Agent Gibbs head across the hospital lobby. He'd had a feeling Gibbs wouldn't let matters drop, but he'd hoped to be back in the UK before the NCIS agent came calling.

"Agent Gibbs, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can it, Clifford. We need to talk, in private," Gibbs replied, a determined glare on his face. Methos shrugged and ushered him into his temporary office. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Gibbs wheeled on him and pushed Methos against the wall. "There was no brother, was there? It was your body in the morgue that day."

Shocked, Methos was momentarily at a loss for words, so he pretended Gibbs' hold was choking him.

"Oh please, I know that won't kill you," Gibbs said, but he still loosened his grip a little. Having regained his composure, Methos was able to speak.

"Have you quite lost your mind, Agent Gibbs? I told you it was my brother who died. How could it possibly have been my body? That's not only preposterous, but medically impossible," Methos answered calmly and a little indignant.

This clearly wrong-footed Gibbs, who took a step back and released Methos. Methos straightened out his clothing and calmly regarded Gibbs. Gibbs seemed to recover his confidence and spoke again.

"I know everything. Ducky and Richie told me all about it. You're like Ryan, aren't you?" Gibbs said, more of a statement than a question, with emphasis on Richie's real surname.

Inwardly, Methos sighed. He didn't know why Richie had been blabbing again, but clearly half of NCIS now seemed aware of Immortals.

"What exactly did Doctor Mallard tell you?" Methos asked.

"Oh no, I'm not going to let you make me look like a fool again, Clifford. If that's your name. I checked: there were no human remains shipped from Washington to the UK since your visit to NCIS. In fact, I can find no trace of your so-called brother beyond the immigration records. And I'm going to be having serious words with Abby and Ryan about where those came from. I know that the reason the body disappeared was because you got up and walked out of autopsy. Don't try and deny it, Clifford," Gibbs was invading Methos' personal space again, jabbing at Methos' chest as he spoke in a voice that was almost a growl.

Methos was really beginning to like this mortal. Richie, on the other hand, was rapidly slipping down his list of favourite Immortals.

"Let's say, for a moment, that this insane notion of yours was correct. What exactly would you do about it?" Methos said cautiously.

"Officially? Absolutely nothing. The case was ruled a suicide, and all the documents back up the official story. Besides, who'd believe me? But I'm guessing that you didn't set fire to yourself, so there's a murderer at large. It didn't stick for you, but if he got away with it once, he's more likely to strike again. And the next victim won't be able to get up and walk away. I want to catch the bastard before that happens," Gibbs replied.

Methos sidestepped Gibbs and took his seat behind his desk. He motioned for Gibbs to take the seat opposite, but Gibbs stayed standing, arms folded. Methos silently contemplated Gibbs, weighing up his options.

He could continue to deny everything, and leave the States as soon as he was able, never coming back as Clifford and certainly not coming to DC for another generation. Alternatively he could go find Richie and practice his surgical techniques on the younger Immortal without any anesthetic. That wouldn't resolve any of his problems, but it would make him feel better.

"Come on, Clifford. Don't you want to find out who tried to kill you? Hell, for all they know, they succeeded, they just got the wrong man. Aren't you just a little bit pissed about that?" Gibbs asked, leaning over the desk.

Cut and run was usually his favored option, but Methos had to admit a certain amount of curiosity as to Adam Clifford's enemy, and an overwhelming urge for revenge. If he hadn't been fortunate enough to wake up in Doctor Mallard's autopsy room, he would have been forced to abandon Adam Clifford's life, and he was rather enjoying it.

He rarely trusted mortals with his Immortality, but Methos was a very good judge of character, and he thought he may be able to trust Gibbs.

"Would you let me make a private phone call please? You can wait out in the lobby; I won't be able to slip out unseen. I just want to confirm some details before I say anything further," Methos said, choosing his words carefully. Gibbs regarded him for a second, then nodded and left the room. Methos picked up his cell and hit speed dial.

"_Hello?_"

"What the buggering hell have you been saying now, brat?" Methos demanded.

"_Methos?...Oh no, Gibbs is there, isn't he? Man, I never thought…I'm so sorry, I should have realized he'd figure it out. I'm such an idiot_," Richie said.

"Well I could have told you that. Is there anyone in that agency who doesn't know about us? I just want to know, so I don't accidentally let it slip to the wrong Government Agent," Methos sniped.

"_It wasn't like that. Gibbs thought I was a terrorist or something. He'd seen the video of the Paris crash, and he knew my alias was a fake. He was going to send me to Guantanamo Bay or something and Ducky and Abs would have lost their jobs, maybe ended up in Federal prison_!" Richie babbled in explanation, barely pausing for breath. "_I had no choice_."

"You could have left."

"_Did you not hear the part about Gibbs? He caught me as I was trying to leave, which of course made things a million times worse. I'm so lucky he didn't throw my ass in jail on the spot._"

"Why couldn't you just get shot and start over then?" Methos said, anger edging his voice. He was probably going to do more than shoot the young Immortal if he saw him in the near future.

"_That would have still left Abby and Ducky in trouble. I couldn't do that to them,_" Richie replied, the apologetic tone replaced by a hint of anger.

Methos silently conceded the point, and changed topic to the crux of his current dilemma.

"If I stick to the story, give him the run-around until I leave the States, would Gibbs let it rest at that?" Methos asked, voicing his earlier gut instinct.

"_I doubt it. He went after me based only on his gut and Gibbs never lets anything go_. _In fact, I'm still not certain he's done with me… Look, Gibbs is a really good guy. A little rough around the edges, but underneath he really cares about what's right. You can trust him_," Richie answered adamantly.

"Oh brilliant, another Boy Scout," Methos opined, shaking his head in exasperation. On the other end of the line, Richie chuckled.

"_Marine actually. Seriously though, Old Man, let him help you. He's the best there is at what he does. If he can't find out who tried to kill you, nobody can_."

"How did you know he'd offered to help?" Methos asked, suspicious suddenly.

"_I know Gibbs_," was Richie's reply.

Without saying goodbye, Methos hung up and considered what Richie had said. He did want to find out who exactly had tried to murder him, and he didn't have much experience as a detective. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let Gibbs know a little. Not too much, but enough that he could provide information and expertise.

Methos sighed and walked to the door of his office. He opened it and looked for Gibbs. The NCIS agent was seated opposite, but he stood when Methos opened the door.

"You'd better come in, Agent Gibbs. We've got a lot to discuss."


	20. The Gibbs Sanction

**Summary**: Ducky and Abby have told Gibbs all about Immortals. Will he allow Richie to keep working at NCIS or have him arrested for using a false identity?

**The Gibbs Sanction**

_Monday Morning_

Richie sat in the passenger seat of Ducky's vintage Morgan. They'd driven the entire way to NCIS in silence. After the disclosure to Gibbs about his Immortality over the weekend, Richie had expected the senior agent to arrest him for a myriad of charges stemming from his false identity or at the very least fire him. But Gibbs had been gone before he'd returned downstairs; the expectation that Richie would be reporting as usual on Monday morning was delivered by Ducky.

Believing that maybe retreat was the better form of valor, Richie still debated leaving DC. Abby had been adamant that everything was going to be fine and Ducky insisted that Gibbs was not waiting to arrest Richie the minute he showed his face at NCIS headquarters. After making Richie swear, pinky swear in fact, that he wouldn't run away, Abby had finally left for the evening.

When Monday morning had dawned, the sleeting rain outside mirroring the grayness he felt inside, Richie once again debated breaking his promise to Abby. She may trust Gibbs, but Richie didn't – at least not yet. He was sure that Gibbs would be waiting at the NCIS main gate with a security detail to haul his ass off to prison or worse, some hidden secret government lab.

Richie tried to beg off going into work, but Ducky wouldn't take no for an answer as he almost forcibly pushed him toward the car. Not wanting the older man to hurt himself, Richie had reluctantly agreed to carpool with Ducky to NCIS. It's not like he could have ridden his bike in the rain anyway. Winter in DC was making him regret not taking Mac up on his offer to buy him a car. It would have been easier to pack up and escape regardless of the weather.

Richie was brought out of his musing when Ducky reached over to pat his leg. "I promise you, Richard, Jethro will not be waiting to drag you off in chains."

"How can you be so sure?"

Ducky shrugged as he turned the car onto the drive leading from the main gate. "Because I know the man."

"What I know is, the man's a straight arrow and my presence at NCIS is about as big a left turn from normal that he's ever seen. I don't think there's anything you could have told him last Friday that would have changed his mind."

"You'd be surprised. I can be very persuasive."

"Don't I know it." Richie laughed

Parking the car, Ducky shifted to look at his young charge. "You can not run every time things get complicated. You must learn to trust us mere mortals."

"Isn't running what Immortals do their whole lives?"

"You are entitled to one lifetime that isn't spent hiding who you are and I believe this is your chance." With a finality that brooked no arguments Ducky commanded, "Now stop being a frightened child and face the man."

Maybe Ducky was right. Maybe this was his chance. Abby and Ducky had become like family: people he cared about and trusted with his life Could he share who he was with Tony, Ziva and Tim and for once not have to watch what he said or did among non-Immortal friends? It would be nice to stop hiding. He was a social animal and the constant breaking of ties when people got too close to the truth was a hard price to pay for Immortality.

Decision made he said, "Alright, let's go to work," and exited the car. Richie trusted Ducky and he hoped he'd was ready to face what ever came next, even if it was prison.

They headed into the building and Richie felt the tension building in his gut as they approached the security check point. Familiar guards greeted him and inquired casually about his weekend as they passed him through without a second thought. Richie simply grunted his replies, unable to relax as he waited for a hand to land on his shoulder and haul him into custody, but it never came.

"You see, my dear boy. All is well," Ducky said as he pressed the call button for the elevator which would take them to the floor where the autopsy and IT departments were located.

"It's still early," Richie quipped.

Richie was grateful that he had no reason to go any where near the agent's bullpen and he was starting to believe that maybe he could avoid Gibbs completely. Maybe the senior agent wasn't even in the building this morning.

The bell dinged indicating the arrival of the car. No one else was waiting for the elevator so they would be able to make the trip in privacy.

The doors opened to reveal agent Gibbs leaning casually against the back wall. He made no move to exit the elevator. Tony had often complained that Gibbs knew where everyone was all the time. Had Gibbs sensed their arrival in the building and timed his movements to intercept them in the elevator? It seemed the logical conclusion because Richie couldn't imagine that Gibbs had simply spent his morning riding the elevator, like a happy five year-old, in anticipation of this encounter.

Ducky glanced from Richie to Gibbs and, seeing something Richie obviously didn't, announced, "I'll take the stairs."

"You do that, Duck," Gibbs deadpanned and then waited patiently for Richie to enter.

Richie hesitated. "Ah…Maybe I should-" he pointed toward where Ducky had retreated toward the stairwell, "you know, go with Ducky- "

"Get in the elevator, Blaine." Gibbs said in that tone that made people just do as he commanded.

Richie practically jumped into the car as the doors snapped shut behind him. "You called me Blaine," Richie said, confused by Gibbs' use of his alias.

"It's your name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I assumed that under the circumstances you'd be insisting on using my real name and stuff. Because of, you know, everything Ducky told you on Friday." Gibbs was staring at him, offering no hint of his thoughts and Richie felt compelled to fill the silence.

"I mean we didn't get a chance to really talk about it. And I assumed - " Richie stopped babbling when Gibbs reached past him to press the stop button halting the elevator's ascent.

_Uh oh_. Tony had told him how Gibbs liked to use the elevator as an impromptu office and suddenly Richie could believe that the man _had_ been riding up and down all morning waiting for his arrival.

Gibbs crossed his arms and gave no indication that he intended to speak at all.

Richie gulped and started talking again. His voice had taken on a frantic quality as he felt himself withering under Gibbs' glare. "You were already gone when I came down. I was kind of surprised actually. I figured you'd want to arrest me." Richie paused a moment giving Gibbs the opportunity to deny that this was his intent, but the senior agent was an unmoving wall of silence.

Richie quickly resumed babbling because standing in a stopped elevator with a cryptic Gibbs was incredibly disconcerting and he felt compelled to fill the silence.

"Anyway. Ducky wouldn't tell me what you'd talked about, but he wanted me to come to work today. I figured I'd just go, you know, away, but Abby made me pinky swear and Ducky made me drive with him. And I still have clearance in the building, which I gotta tell you surprised me – " Richie took a breath, shrugged and trailed into silence. Was he even making any sense at this point? He was completely confused and had no idea what Gibbs wanted him to say or if the man was just torturing him before finally slapping the cuffs on. At this point, he was pretty sure he had nothing left to add.

"Ya done?"

Richie nodded not trusting himself to keep his mouth from running off again if he opened it.

"Why didn't you run?"

Richie was confused because, he was pretty sure during his verbal diarrhea he'd explained how Abby had made him pinky swear.

"Because Ducky and Abby made me prom- "

Gibbs reached out and smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't tell me about them. Tell me about you."

Richie struggled to keep himself from smiling. Gibbs had smacked him like he was one of the family. He was pretty sure that was a good thing, but it was hard to tell.

"Because it's my mess and I have to clean it up and if that means being arrested so that Abby and Ducky can have a clean slate then that's what I have to do."

Gibbs nodded. "That's what you said on Friday."

"I wasn't kidding then and I'm not now. Oh, I thought about running - a lot," he admitted. There was a part of him that was surprised that he was actually standing here today. He may have whined and complained about coming into to work and risking his freedom, but if he'd really wanted to leave there was nothing Ducky could have done to stop him. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd betrayed their trust – " Richie hesitated as he finally understood the motivation behind his actions over the weekend and today.

Ducky and Abby were too important for him to ever hurt them. Richie meant it when he said he'd do anything to protect them. He was ready to face the consequences and, surprisingly, he was finally at peace about the choices he was making.

Richie took a deep calming breath as he met Gibbs' glare head on finding strength in his epiphany. "I'm not afraid, Agent Gibbs. I won't ask you to compromise your principles." For emphasis, he held his hands out, ready for the handcuffs. "And I won't trade my freedom for Ducky and Abby's careers or their friendship with you."

Richie saw a smile tugging at the corner of Gibbs' mouth before the senior agent clamped down on it. Gibbs hit the button to start the elevator again.

"You need to get to work."

Richie dropped his hands. "That's it?"

The elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped forward extending a hand to keep the door from closing while keeping his gaze locked on Richie. "Unless you want me to arrest you?"

A smile lit up Richie's face. "No, sir!" Ducky had been right, Gibbs understood. Still he wanted to make sure that he was reading the situation correctly. "What made you change you mind?"

Gibbs dropped his hand from the door, stepped out of the elevator and turning back to Richie he let a rare smile show on his face. "Let's just say I'm no Javert."

"Wait –What the hell does that mean?" Richie asked, but the elevator doors had snapped shut cutting him off from Gibbs.

* * *

  
_Friday – Three days earlier_

Gibbs sat on the couch as Abby and Ducky weaved a supernatural tale of Immortals and their history. Ducky had been right about one thing, if he hadn't seen Richie heal from the gun shot wound, he would never have believed his friend's wild story.

"Doesn't change the fact that he broke the law when he came to work at NCIS under a false name," Gibbs said when Ducky had finished his story.

"But Gibbs," Abby pleaded with him. "He had no choice. He was dead in France and he had to make up a new identity or tell everyone he was Immortal and then the government would have turned him into a lab rat and then his life would have been over – "

"Abs!"

She had a determined look in her eye and would not be silenced. "You know I'm right! He had to get a new identity."

Gibbs hated to disappoint Abby, but he didn't see it that way. "Abby, he compromised this agency by lying about who he is. I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do! He hasn't done anything wrong except change his name."

"Have you ever read _Les Miserables_ by Victor Hugo, Jethro?" Ducky interrupted.

The non sequitur brought Gibbs up short and he simply shook his head, wondering what a 19th century novel had to do with the current situation.

"It's about a man named Jean Valjean who was sent to prison for stealing a loaf of bread; a relatively minor infraction. but one that, in those days, warranted years of jail time. Upon his release he broke his parole rather than starve because societal laws gave him no other choice; no one would hire a convict. Over the years he took on a new identity and he was able to make something of himself; in fact the economy of a small village became dependent on his patronage. But none of the good he'd done mattered when he was finally caught by a relentless police officer named Javert.

"Am I supposed to be Javert in this story?"

"Yes, you are," Abby said and crossed her arm on her chest.

Abby's anger distressed him in a way he'd never admit even to himself. Gibbs needed her to understand that it was time to stop fighting him and that, friend or no friend, Immortality did not give Ryan a pass to do as he pleased. Gibbs was about to say so when Ducky's glare made him swallow his words. He resigned himself to hearing the rest of the story, ultimately he supposed, he owed Ducky and Abby that much.

"Javert could not see that Valjean was an honest man," Ducky continued. "A good man who'd been placed in an untenable situation. Javert was convinced that one reckless act in his youth made Valjean a criminal with no hope for redemption and took the man back to prison. The economy of the village collapsed."

"Still not seeing the connection, Duck," Gibbs said.

Next to him, Abby was rolling her eyes and making exasperated hand gestures suggesting that the connection was obvious. Gibbs ignored her.

"When Jean Valjean escaped, Javert was right there pursuing him. The day came when Javert's life was in danger and he would have been killed; except that Valjean saved him even though he knew that exposing himself to the police officer meant his return to prison."

Ducky was staring at him, daring him not to see the parallel. Gibbs had to admit he was curious to know the ending. "So what happened?"

Ducky smiled in triumph thinking that he'd won Gibbs over. For his part, Gibbs was starting to feel some doubt about his course of action; Ducky had always had the ability to make Gibbs see things in a new light and tonight had been no exception.

"Javert let him go. Twenty-odd years he'd chased him and it had taken a brush with his own mortality to understand that Jean Valjean was not a criminal at all. Just a good man forced to do things because of the nature of society, and when given a choice, Valjean's own freedom meant nothing compared to the redemption of his soul."

"You think this kid is some noble righteous man forced by his Immortality to bend the rules."

"Yes, I do. Not all Immortals are good men, but Richie is."

"You really believe that." It wasn't a question and Gibbs was starting to accept the truth of Ducky's convictions.

His gut had told him that Ryan was hiding something and he'd been right about that, but he'd never felt that Richie was actually dangerous. If he trusted Ducky then he'd have to trust the man's assessment of his ward.

"You may have a point," Gibbs finally conceded.

Abby flung her arms around his neck. "See I knew you'd understand." He returned her hug.

"And it is a valid point, Jethro," Ducky said. "Immortals need to keep creating new identities or reveal themselves; there's nothing malicious about it. It is simply a matter of survival in the society in which we live."

Gibbs nodded having come to a decision. He'd let it play out without his interference. If Ryan chose to run away then he would feel compelled to report Richie's deception and make sure, at the very least, that he never worked in government again and that his name was added any watch lists. Those actions might not lead to Ryan's arrest, but Gibbs would feel he'd done what was necessary to prevent any compromise of national security issues. If the kid was the upright citizen Ducky believed him to be, he wouldn't run. Ryan would take responsibility for his actions and that was a man that Gibbs could respect, maybe even trust, and certainly someone he would not arrest.

"So what will you do now, Jethro?"

He stood. "I'll see you all at work on Monday."

"Richie too?" Abby pushed as she stood to face him.

"It's his decision," Gibbs said. "He can leave or he can come back to work." Implicit in his statement was the instruction that it had to be Richie's decision.

"So you won't arrest him?" Abby asked.

"Didn't say that, Abs." He headed toward the door.

"Gibbs!" She chased after him, blocking his exit.

"Trust me," he said softly as he kissed her cheek and headed out the door.

* * *

_Monday Morning_

Gibbs allowed himself a small chuckle as he saw the confused look on Richie's face just before the elevator door snapped shut.

He'd been truly surprised when he'd caught sight of Ducky and Ryan heading into the building from the windows in the bull pen. Gibbs had quickly made the decision to confront Richie in the elevator, expecting the Immortal to lie or at least try to shift some of the responsibility away from himself. After listening to the kid babble for ten minutes, Gibbs had reached the conclusion that Richie had done the right thing and for the right reasons. Ducky had been correct in his assessment of the Immortal's moral code; Richie was a good kid in an unusual situation and one which was not a threat to national security.

As he strode over to his desk, Gibbs casually acknowledged his three agents and Ducky, unsurprised to find his friend standing in the bull pen waiting for him, a look of hope on his face.

"You need something, Duck?" he asked casually.

"I was wondering if you'd seen my nephew."

Gibbs tilted his head, feigning confusion. "I suspect he's downstairs in his cubicle."

"You are most likely correct." A smile of supreme satisfaction lit up Ducky's features.

Gibbs circled around his friend and settled into his desk. "Anything else because – " he gestured to the pile of paperwork in front of him.

"No, you've done quite enough," Ducky turned to leave and then stopped to face Gibbs again. "And Jethro," he waited for Gibbs to meet his gaze, "Thank you."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

Ducky continued to smile, "No, of course, you don't," and headed out of the bull pen.

Gibbs watched him leave. Ryan had gone a long way toward winning Gibbs' respect when he'd shown up this morning and taken responsibility for the whole mess. He'd been impressed by his continued willingness to sacrifice himself for Ducky and Abby.

There were a few other details Gibbs wanted to work out starting with telling McGee to stop investigating Ryan and then figuring out a way to have the kid reporting directly to him. But right now his gut was telling him that he'd done the right thing this morning and he was feeling pretty good about that.

The phone rang breaking him out of his musings. "Gibbs" he barked as he answered the call. He listened intently for a moment before disconnecting.

"We've got a dead marine," he announced to the others. "Grab your gear."

Without looking back he headed for the elevator. Just another day at the office.


End file.
